The Wanderer
by M.M. Wilcox
Summary: Lady Farren has wandered Middle Earth for many years, no land it contained was unknown to her. She has explored Rohan, Rivendell, the mountains, and more. Farren belonged no where, but she has not ignored the darkness spreading over the lands of others. She knows another war is coming and she won't rest until this battle is won.
1. Chapter One

**_This is a fanfiction based off of Peter Jackson's film adaptations of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. Nothing but my OC and her plot belongs to me, all rights reserved, original characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien._**

I have travelled the world of Middle-Earth many times over. I've been to Rohan, to Rivendell, and even to the Shire. I have fought evil by the sides of wizards, men, dwarfs, and elves. I've learned much from Lord Elrond, Gandalf the Grey, and many others. Nothing surprised me when I lived in Mirkwood, not until I met my first Hobbit, Mr. Bilbo Baggins, the burglar.

* * *

"Lady Farren!" My companion called for me, "Please slow down."

I slowed my pace for the stout man from the village. This is why I had wanted to bring horses on our journey to the archives, but they would not have fit on the narrow path through the forest.

My companion, a short, slightly pump man somewhere in his high fifties, ran to catch up with me. I would have left him behind hours ago if I had the choice, but this man from Farbury had the key to the archives I needed.

"Hurry now, Mr. Ravi. It would be best to reach the archives before night falls," I told him as he finally joined me. I suppose you would wonder how an elf such as I would end up in such a situation. It was aggravating really, to have to depend upon on another person, but I wasn't about just steal the key. The village of Farbury is where I bought my supplies, and I doubt they would appreciate it if I stole something very sacred to them.

You see, the village of Farbury is old and has documented every moment of their history and hid it away in their archives. One of these archived stories had information I wanted. Farbury was close to the elven realm of Lothlórien, and many elves have been through here before, including some that may have given the villagers information.

"You must forgive me, Lady Farren. I am getting on in my years and I am not as fast as I used to," Mr. Ravi apologized.

"Indeed you are, my friend. I must say, you are old for your kin. That is quite an accomplishment." My compliment made the man puff up his chest pridefully and began to walk even faster.

I smiled with amusement. The race of Man were a prideful bunch, but it did provide some humor once and awhile.

Suddenly, I heard a low growl come from the trees of the forest. I placed my hand on the hilt of my sword and stood still. Mr. Ravi froze where he was, I doubt he heard the sound, but he did notice my stance. Another growl from the forest confirmed my suspicion. We were being hunted by a pack of wargs.

I roughly grabbed my companions arm and ran down the path. With my elven eyes, I could see the archive building not that far off. Ravi struggled to keep up with me, but I didn't stop or slow down.

It was no use. The wargs were already upon us.

The great, wolf-like beast jumped in front of me. Blood matted the wargs dark brown fur, its small, beady black eyes looked at us with menace, and it's ugly pig-like snout snorted heavily.

Ravi took one look at its overly large teeth and started to tremble in fear. I drew my sword to confront the beast, but another beast jumped out behind us. I whirled around and glared at the second one. One was enough for me, I didn't need two.

"Ravi, run," I whispered to the terrified man, "Run to the archives and do not look back. I'll come shortly."

I didn't need to tell the man twice. He took off towards the archives, and when the first warg tried to catch him, I swung my sword out and nicked him on the nose. His attention turned back to me, a new cut on his snout.

The two wargs started to circle around me, determining the best way to kill me. I switched my gaze between the two, doing my own analysis. The first one was male, the other female. It didn't appear that there were anymore of them, and there wasn't any orcs with them. Strange. Wargs usually traveled in packs or at least had an orc rider. These two must have been separated from the pack or their riders had been killed. Either way, I didn't care; I just needed them dead.

Tired of circling me, the male warg pounced, clearly trying to rip my throat out. I ducked underneath the beast and thrust my sword into its stomach as it was flying over me. I swiftly removed my sword and dove to the right to avoid being squished by the fallen warg.

The brute gave one last pitiful whimper and fell still, dead. The female glared at me with an almost Man-like hatred. I felt myself take a shocked step back, I had never seen that from a warg. They were beasts of Sauron. They were not capable of hatred, only evil.

Spurred on by the death of her companion, the female warg lunged forward and tried to bite my arm. I moved out of the way before her teeth could snag me; she was a lot faster than she looked. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to kill her the same way as the other.

I decided it would probably be best if I put some distance between us, so I jumped up and grabbed the lowest branch of the tree behind me. After pulling myself up to avoid my feet being bitten off, I climbed up a little higher, but not high enough to lose her attention. I didn't want her going off after Ravi.

While I took out my bow and an arrow, both gifts from the elves of Lothlórien, the warg attempted to climb the tree. She was too heavy and kept slipping. I knocked my arrow and aimed at the creatures head, right between the eyes. I waited until she tried to climb the tree again, then shot her as she slid back down.

She fell backwards with a heavy thud, but she wasn't dead yet. She whimpered and growled slightly and tried to move, but my aim had been true. She wasn't getting up again.

I jumped down from my spot in the tree and approached the fallen beast. Placing my hand on her snout, I watched the life fade out of her eyes. It was sad to see such a powerful creature go, if only she had been created differently. Sauron was the one to blame; he was the one to create such creatures by engulfing innocent wolves into a darkness they could not escape.

"I am sorry you had to go, cin foeg ún," I whispered to the warg. The beast finally laid still, no more fight left. She was gone. Sighing, I stood up to drag the beast off the road; I wouldn't want future travelers to come open the body.

As I dragged the female into the bush, which took quite a bit of effort because of its size, I heard a small whimper came from deeper within the forest. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to check it out, I finished with the two wargs and went to investigate.

Another whimper from the bush on the other side of the path. It didn't sound exactly like a dog, and it didn't sound fully grown. '_Strange_,' I thought to myself. I moved the small bush from where the sound came and what I saw shocked me more than a disappearing hobbit.

A small, skinny baby warg laid underneath the bush. It was curled up, as if to protect itself from the cold. Its teeth had not yet grown in and no fur was present on its body, it must have only been one or two weeks old.

Then a heart-shattering revelation came to me. I had just killed the poor creatures parents. "Oh no," I whispered to myself. The baby warg would have no one to protect it, no one to care for it, no one to watch it grow up to be such a powerful beast.

Most enemies of Sauron would have left the baby to die, but I've always had a soft heart. After tearing off the bottom half of my cloak, I wrapped the small creature, who I found to be female, in it and gently held her up to my chest.

The tiny warg did not complain, glad to be out of the cold of winter. The small creature fell asleep in my arms, enjoying my warmth. I looked down at the little one, trying to believe that her kin had been responsible for the suffering of many.

Perhaps others would have blamed her for such a feat, but I knew better than most that you could not choose what species you were.

As I made my way to where Ravi was waiting at the archives, I decided then and there that I would care for this baby warg as if she was my own child. I would raise her to be a kind but fearsome creature; raise her to fight against Sauron.

"She will be the first warg raised by an elf," I pondered aloud, "I think I quite like the sound of that." The baby warg snuggled closer to me, as if enjoying my words as much as I did.

"Now, what to name you?" I whispered to the creature. Peering at the creature, a perfect name came to me, "Rieka."

The warg moved her head a little higher, as though it was responding to her name. Rieka it was then.

* * *

I had never found what I had been looking for, but I received something greater. For years, I raised Rieka to be who she is today. Many elves disapproved of it, but I did not care; Rieka had become my most loyal and greatest friend.

Because she was raised by me, Rieka was gifted with immortality to roam Middle-Earth with me until we were no longer needed. Rieka and I spent many happy years together, hiding from civilization because of their hatred for her kin. Though Rieka could not speak, I suspected it bothered her, and I tried my best to comfort her, but she would always face the prejudice of others.

Through the gift of the Valor, I was able to keep the darkness that threatened her soul away from her. Instead of the usual dark colors of her kin, her fur was pure white, marking her as my own. I loved her more than anything, and she loved me the same. We didn't need anyone as long as we had each other, and I was okay with it, though it did affect my observance of other's emotions.

Me and Rieka kept to ourselves through all the years, until we ran into a strange company of 13 dwarves and one especially brave hobbit.


	2. Chapter Two

The leaves of the trees whistled as the wind tore through them. I shivered from the cold, wanting to find a warm place to hide, but I had promised King Thranduil I would keep watch over his gates.

The king and I were not the best of friends, but I owed him a favor from long ago. I would have denied him, the same way he had denied his help to the dwarves in need, but I would not break a promise.

We hid behind a large tree with a great view of the bridge to King Thranduil's palace. From here, I could see all that happened at the gate without being seen.

Rieka laid next to me, not bothered by the cold due to her warm fur. She was nearly seventy years old now, an especially long life for her kind. She had grown to have pure white fur, bright blue eyes, and to look more wolf-like. Unlike other wargs, she didn't not have many scars, seeing how I didn't treat her like the orcs treated wargs.

Sneaking a glance at Rieka, I saw her looking bored while she scanned the area with glassy eyes. Nothing had happened for a while, and I was tiring as well. King Thranduil already had guards watching over the gates, I doubted he needed me as well, but you could never be too careful with the shadow from Mordor growing.

As I pulled my cloak tighter around me to keep out the cold, a thought came to me. It would be more effective if I went out into the forest and looked for the spider's nest, instead of just sitting here and waiting. I would have to check with Thranduil first.

Rieka eyed me, as if she already knew what I was thinking. Before I could speak to her, a commotion by the gate took my attention. Peering over the side of the tree, I saw a large group of dwarves being escorted into the palace with multiple guards surrounding them. This caught my curiosity.

"Stay here," I told her as I made my way over to the secret side door that granted access to the palace. Rieka let out a huff of air but did not stop me.

The door was hidden in the trunk of a large tree. It was disguised perfectly as the bark, and the only way I could have spotted it was the small seam between the door and the tree. I pushed lightly on the door and it opened without a sound. After closing the door behind me, I descended a flight of stairs into a grand hall.

It looked like a well-lit cave with vegetation growing nearly everywhere. The floor was flooded with water, so bridges were made to move around. One of such bridges was filled with dwarves and elves. The elves held swords to the dwarves, leading them to the dark depths of the vast dungeons.

Leading the group was Tauriel, Captain of the Guard, and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Though I knew both, I had found Tauriel to be more rash due to her young age and Legolas prone to obeying his father blindly.

As I made my way over to the group, I saw Legolas take the lead dwarf and steer him towards his father's throne. The rest of the dwarves were sent to the dungeon, with Tauriel in the lead.

I stared after them for a moment, unconsciously noting how different I was from them. Most had blonde to light brown hair or even red, while my own hair was startling silver in color. Their eyes were lighter colors and mine were a dark, dark green. Our differences just proved that I did not belong here, at all, and it made me miss my home all the more.

Legolas cleared his throat, reminding me he was still there and waiting for me to speak.

_"Why are the dwarves here,_ _Legolas_?" I asked the elven prince, wondering about the presence of the dwarfs.

_"They have trespassed on our lands, Lady Farren. Father wishes to speak to this one,_ _Thorin Oakenshield_," He explained.

"The courtesy of elves has been lesser as of late. Tell me, what do you scheme in your native tongue?" The dwarf rudely asked. Legolas looked down at the dwarf with disdain.

"What we speak of is no concern to you, dwarf," the prince answered sharply. I was amused by the dwarf, it was not every day a soul was brave enough to hassle the Mirkwood elves.

"Come, gentleman. We best not keep the king waiting," I spoke up before the two of them could find more reason to dislike the other. Legolas straightened and began walking towards his father's throne. The dwarf followed close behind, and I took the rear in case the prince's "friend" tried to escape.

Once we arrived in the throne room, we found King Thranduil lounging in his throne with his legs crossed. A scepter was in his hand and a crown of branches and red leaves upon his head.

The throne itself was an impressive sight. Steps lead from the bridge to a platform, and in turn more steps lead to a throne with two large antlers poking out on either side. Four guards were posted on either side of the platform to protect the king, even the elven king needed protection in these dark times.

When Thranduil saw us with the dwarf, he stood immediately; an act towards the dwarf I had not expected from him. Legolas and I bowed to the king, showing our respect.

"Leave us," he commanded. I frowned but did not protest. Neither did Legolas as we left. "Not you, Farren."

Surprised, I stayed where I was. Legolas went on, but I secretly suspected that he was annoyed. King Thranduil, who did not seem to notice, turned back to Thorin and addressed him.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk." Thranduil looked closely at the dwarf, and the dwarf at him. The king seemed to be searching for something within the dwarf, but what I was not sure.

"You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone." My eyes widened in surprise; the Arkenstone had been lost for ages, the dwarves quest to receive would be quite a feat.

"It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help." The small, greedy smile on Thranduil's face made a shiver go down my spine; no elf should ever wear that look.

"I am listening," Thorin spoke up.

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine." Thorin turned away from Thranduil and began to walk away. I could still see his face, it looked thoughtful, as if the offer interested him.

"A favor for a favor," Thorin mused.

"You have my word, one king to another." I winced at Thranduil's words. The last time he had said that to a dwarf he had broken his word, and I'm sure Thorin remembers well.

"I would not trust Thranduil, the great king, to honor his word should the end of all days be upon us!" Thorin turned around and pointed to the king, anger written all over his face.

"You lack all honor! I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us!"

"Imrid amrad ursul!" My dwarvish was not good, but I was able to roughly translate the phrase: Die a death of flames.

There was a small silent stretch for a moment before Thranduil answered the insult. He took two quick steps up to the dwarf and bent down to face him. King Thranduil's face was contorted to show burn scars and milky white of one of his eyes.

"Do not talk to me of dragon fire. I know its wrath and ruin. I have faced the great serpents of the north."

I stared at my feet, knowing exactly what he spoke off; I had been to the north as well, I have battled one of their wretched kin, and it took a great toll on myself. Subconsciously, I touched my right wrist, to remind myself it was still there, the scar. It was a scar to remind of all I had lost in the northern countries.

My attention turned back to the scene before me. Thranduil backed away from the dwarf as he face returned to normal. The king took a deep breath in to calm himself down to speak again.

"I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen." Thranduil turned and walked back up to his throne. "You are just like him.

"Take him to the dungeons, Farren. I wish not to see him again." I nodded my head and grabbed the dwarf's arm. Thorin did not struggle, only glared at Thranduil, who spoke his final words to the dwarf.

"Stay here if you will, and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait."

I wanted to strangle the elf myself. Why would he not help those in need? Did he have no honor? The dwarves had no home, and Thranduil offered them no home. The least he could do was aid them in their quest. What harm would it do him?

"Take him," I told one of the guards. They nod obediently, knowing I was to be listened to.

Thranduil noticed my command to the guard. He looked at me with curious eyes, waiting for me to speak. I waited for the guard to lead Thorin away before I addressed the king.

"These are not the actions of an honorable king. These are the actions of a coward: a selfish, greedy coward. Why will you not help the dwarves? The disdain the elves hold for them are childish!" My shouts rang through the halls of the palace, but I cared not. I could not stand for the actions of this elf.

"The dwarves are in great need. This is a chance to make peace with their kin, but your pride will not allow it. You sit here, in your lavish throne and warm palace, while others suffer in the cold, alone. How can you stand for this?"

"Farren, you are young, you do not yet understand-" Thranduil began to say, but I cut him off.

"No, I do understand. I understand you have suffered great loss at the hands of the dragons, but so have I." I pulled back my sleeve and showed him my wrist. "The dragons of the north are ruthless, yes, but that is why it is our responsibility to aid those in danger of such beasts!"

"Enough!" Thranduil bellowed, "Lady Farren, I must request that you do not argue with me. What I do is for the good of my people. We do not have enough resources to help the dwarves unless we receive something in return. We are too thin spread as it is, we cannot help the dwarves. Now go, prepare for Mereth-en-Gilith."

He took his seat and motioned for me to leave. I stormed out of the room, furious. His reasons were valid, the elves of Mirkwood had enough trouble as it was.

But I was not an elf of Mirkwood, I was simply a guest. An idea came to me that spurred me to go faster. Thranduil had no rule over me or my actions, so if I were to help the dwarves, he would have no say.

_A.N. Quick note, whenever italics are used, the words are in elvish._


	3. Chapter Three

I descended the steps to the dungeons quickly, but I stopped when I heard quiet voices speaking. Hiding behind a pillar, I eavesdropped on the conversation.

"A runestone. My mother gave it to me so I'd remember my promise." It was the voice of one of the dwarves, though I did not know which.

"What promise?" The female voice made me stiffin, it was Tauriel. I peeked my head around the pillar and found her sitting outside the door of one of the dwarves cells. The dwarf was taller than the rest and had dark hair, but no beard, only stubble.

"That I will come back to her." Tauriel looked down, knowing that the promise might not be fulfilled if the dwarves continued to remain here. All the more reason for me to release them.

"She worries. She thinks I'm reckless," the dwarf continued.

"Are you?" Tauriel asked in amusement.

"Nah," the dwarf says, smiling has he tossed the stone in the air. His misses the stone as it comes back down and rolls out of the cell. Tauriel stopped it with her foot before it could roll off the edge of the walkway and into the dark pit below.

She picked up the small stone and peers at it curiously. The sound of elven laughter rings through the dungeon as the feast upstairs got louder.

"Sounds like quite a party you're having up there," the dwarf commented, leaning against the cell bars.

"It is Mereth-en-Gilith, the Feast of Starlight," Tauriel explained, "All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars."

"I always thought it is a cold light, remote and far away."

"It is memory, precious and pure. Like your promise." Tauriel smiled and gave the dwarf his stone back.

"I have walked there sometimes, beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light forever fill the air."

A memory seemed to come to the dwarf. "I saw a fire moon once. It rose over the pass near Dunland, huge; red and gold it was, filled the sky. We were an escort for some merchants from Ered Luin, they were trading in Silverbuck for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left, and then, this huge fire moon, right in our path. I wish I could show you..."

His voice sounded as if it had been a fond memory. Tauriel, intrigued, sat outside his cell as he spoke. Her eyes glittered with wonder as the dwarf spoke.

I looked away from the happy sight; at least one other elf did not harbor hatred for the dwarves. As I looked up, I noticed Legolas standing on a ledge above Tauriel and the dwarf. His face was blank, but I knew what it really meant.

Before I could call to him, Legolas turned and walked away, back into the feast upstairs. Time was not on my side, so I could not speak to the elf. The dwarves needed to be freed before the feast was over.

Just as I was about to find the guard with the dungeon keys, the elf I was looking for appeared. He was entering the cellar, probably for more wine.

I followed him into the cellar, where the king kept his fine wine. I didn't particularly like wine, it deluded the senses and tasted like dirty water; disgusting.

The guard gracefully walked into the cellar and said "We're running out of drink," to the elf stationed there. Quietly, I stood outside the door frame, wondering whether I should go in or not.

"These empty barrels should have been sent back to Esgarrouth hours ago. The bargeman will be waiting for them," the same elf said, noticing the barrels stacked up above the trapdoor.

"Say what you like about our ill-tempered king, but he has excellent taste in wine. Come, Elros, try it," another elf invited, taking a sip from a flagon.

"I have the dwarves in my charge," the guard, Elros, told him. The drunk elf took the keys from him and hung them on a hook.

"They're locked up; where can they go?" The elf said. Elros laughed and sat down at the table for more wine.

I waited for the elves to get especially drunk from the alcohol before I entered the room. The elves were out cold when I spotted them. Shaking my head in disappointment at their neglectfulness, I made my way to the keys, but I somehow tripped over something. Stumbling and trying to find my balance, I grabbed the wall to keep me from falling.

"Talitav," I muttered, straightening up. I looked for whatever I had tripped on, but there was nothing. Reaching out my hands, I finally felt something and grabbed onto it.

"Ah!" A small voice shouted. I lifted the small, invisible creature I held.

"Who are you?" I asked the creature quietly, keeping my voice down to not wake the other elfs.

Suddenly, something very real appeared in my hands. To my surprise, it was a Hobbit! The hobbits brown eyes were wide with fear, his curly brown hair ruffled from me grabbing him, and his hairy feet dangled in mid-air as I held him up.

"B-bilbo Baggins, of the Shire," the hobbit stuttered.

A memory came to me, something that knew to be important. Then I realized, the same dwarves in our dungeons had travelled through Rivendell a few days prior, and they had been in the company of a wizard, and a hobbit.

"You must be the hobbit that is traveling with the dwarves," I said curiously, "Tell me, how did you perform your little magic trick?"

The hobbit must have used whatever magic he possessed to escape capture by the elves earlier, and I was curious as to how he had done it.

"I, uh, a little trinket of mine. Passed done from my grandfather, it is," Bilbo Baggins answered.

"Interesting." Realizing I still held the hobbit in the air, I put him down and said, "I assume you are here to help the dwarves escape."

The hobbit squared his feet and put up his fists. I raised my eyebrows, surprised yet amused. "Aye, and you're not going to stop me."

"Why ever would I stop you, Mr. Baggins?" His brow furrowed, showing his confusion. I simply smiled and patted the hobbit on the head. "You will quickly learn, Mr. Baggins, that I am not like my fellow kin."

Grabbing the key off the hook on the wall, I gestured for Bilbo to follow me to the cells holding the dwarves. As we wandered to the dungeons, I heard the dwarven voices drifting through the hall.

"I'll wager the sun's on the rise. It must be nearly dawn," one said.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Another asked. I handed Bilbo the keys and motioned for him to go.

He nodded and stepped into the dwarves line of view. "Not stuck in here, you're not!"

"Bilbo!" One dwarf shouted in surprise. Deciding it was best to show myself now, I stepped into the light behind Bilbo.

"Behind you!" The only dwarf I knew, Thorin, shouted. Bilbo, not realizing it was me, turned to see what he was speaking of.

"There is nothing to fear. I have come to help," I told the weary dwarves. Thorin narrowed his eyes at me, recognizing my face from the conference with Thranduil.

"How can we trust an elf, when her own kin are the reason we are imprisoned?" Thorin spoke up.

"I have no loyalty to Thranduil. He is not my king and his kingdom is not my home." Bilbo kept switching his gaze between Thorin and I, trying to decide what to do.

"Go ahead and free the dwarves, Bilbo," I prompted him. Thorin narrowed his eyes at me but allowed Bilbo to release his company.

"Mighty job, Bilbo," One of the dwarves, the taller one with larger muscles than the rest, exclaimed. I winced as the sound echoed through the cavernous dungeon, but the elves above did not hear.

"Quieter, Mr. Dwarf. The elven guards may be drunk, but they can still hear well," I told him. The same dwarf looked to me and studied me for a moment. I held myself tall, allowing my long, cold silver hair fall down my back and my greenish-brown eyes stare into the dwarf's.

"The stairs. You first, Ori!" One of the dwarves shouted, breaking the burly dwarf's stare.

"Not that way, down here. Follow me," Bilbo corrected them. He led them down through the vast halls of the Woodland Realm. My mind wandered as we walked the halls; if I were to help the dwarves take back their home, I highly doubted that King Thranduil would welcome me back to his kingdom. But I cared not, Rieka and I were used to traveling Middle Earth, we did not require such comforts as those provided in his home.

My thoughts abandoned me as I realized we had come to the cellar, where the wine barrels were still stacked high over the trapdoor.

"I don't believe it; we're in the cellars!" The blonde dwarf exclaimed. He looked similar to the dwarf who had spoken with Tauriel earlier. I distantly wondered if they were related.

"You were supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" A dwarf with a strange, furry hat nearly shouted. Glancing at the slumbering elves, I saw that they were nearly ready to wake.

"I know what I'm doing!" Bilbo truly shouted back.

"Silence!" My voice was quiet, but my tone insistent. The elven guards stirred in their drunken state, and if the company talked any louder, they would wake.

The dwarves all turned to me and I gave each them a hard look. The younger ones (at least I believed they were younger, I could not tell) all lowered their head. The older looking ones turned away, indifferent, and only Thorin stared back at me. My gaze still fixed on his, I watched as he gave me a curt nod before looking to Bilbo.

"This way," Bilbo whispered urgently when the dwarves returned their attention to him. Bilbo led them to the empty barrels, and his plan suddenly came to light for me.

The opening of cell doors and the shouts of surprise reached my ears. It came from the dungeons. They must have realized the dwarves escape.

"The elven guards are coming. I must go, I will delay them," I told the group quietly. Thorin looked to me, a strange expression on his face, one I could not place, but I did not dwindle on the thought as I left the cellar.


	4. Chapter Four

Swiftly, I journeyed down the halls of the great realm and returned to the dungeons. There, I found Tauriel addressing an elven guard.

"Where is the keeper of the keys?" Tauriel appeared agitated, but I sensed a hint of relief in her voice. I assumed she was glad that the charming dwarf had escaped, but it would be best if I did not confront her about it, at least not yet.

"The cellar," I responded for the guard. Tauriel turned to see who had answered her and spotted me standing there.

"Lady Farren." Tauriel nodded to acknowledge my presence, then sped off towards the cellar.

"Tauriel," I called to her, slightly panicked at her speed, "Is there command from the king?"

Tauriel and her fellow guards paused for her to speak to me. "There is. We must catch the dwarves and those responsible for their release. They do not leave King Thranduil's realm."

"Do you not think that the king's actions are rash? The dwarves are in need of help, not hindrance."

She stiffened at my words as the other guards look to her, waiting for a command. If she were to say to let the dwarves go, I very much doubted her kin would listen. They had orders from the king, and he greatly outranked Tauriel.

"It has been commanded by the king. We must," Tauriel finally said, then she sped off with the guards in tow. I wish I could stall them longer, but there was nothing to be done.

After the guards had left, I ran to the main hall of the palace, where the secret entrance was located. I traveled up the flight of stairs to the door and burst through it into the open air.

Rieka laid where I had left her, but when she saw my hurried entrance, she sprang to her feet. I ignored her as I rushed to the riverside, searching for the band of dwarves. There, the once wine-filled barrels were being carried down the river in the violent current. The watergate was just in front of them, they were almost there.

Before the dwarf-laiden barrels could cross the gate, I heard the shout of an elven voice, commanding that the gates be shut.

"Not yet!" I shouted, but my voice could only be heard by Rieka. She did not show any confusion in her face, she already knew what was happening, once again showing her superior intelligence.

Together, we ran to the guardpost that guarded the gate. The elves upon the post were pulling a lever to close the gate, so I ran faster, urging my legs to work harder.

The gate had barely closed with Rieka pounced on the elven guard, knocking him over and leaving the lever free. I grabbed it and started to pull it in the other direction, but the sudden sound of a painful gasp stopped me.

I looked over and saw the other guard, the one who had not been tackled by Rieka, had an arrow sprouting from his back. He collapsed to the ground, dead. An orc cry resounded in the area.

My hands went slack at the sound. Not orcs; not now. But they were there, and there were a lot of them. The orcs swarmed the bridge, taking out any elf they saw. I let go of the lever and drew my sword, ready for a fight.

The orcs surrounded me and Rieka in seconds. Rieka growled at the orcs behind me as I blocked the attack by a smaller orc. I kicked the orc square in the chest and knocked it off the edge.

Another orc came at me, but I was too quick. With a swift flick, the orcs head was removed from its shoulders. More and more enemies fell onto me and I fought each one with a fierce determination. Rieka did the same.

Some way through the battle, I spotted the dwarf who had charmed Tauriel climb onto the bridge and knock back orcs with a stolen sword. He battled to reach the lever, and right as he was about to pull back the object, a black arrow pierced his leg. He cried out in pain and tried to pull the lever back, but collapsed onto his back instead.

"Kili!" A voice shouted from the water. An orc came to finish off the young dwarf, but an arrow flew into his skull. An elven arrow.

Tauriel jumped into the battle as she shot one orc and stabs another with a knife. Another orc cry, this one sounding more like garbled words, was heard. Tauriel fared well in her own battle, so I was not concerned for her; however, the dwarf, Kili I believe, did not look that well.

I fought my way over to him, beheading a few orcs and stabbing the rest along the way. Kili tried to grab at the lever, desperate to allow his kin freedom. When I reached him, I pulled the lever.

Kili stared at me, at the elf that was helping him. "Thank you," the dwarf said.

"Do not thank me yet, young dwarf. You have yet to take back your home." I pushed the dwarf off the edge, surprising him. He gave a short shout of shock, but stopped when he realized what I had been doing.

The dwarf landed in the floating barrel with a grunt of pain. The shaft of the arrow that had been sticking out of his leg had broken, causing him more pain. I watched the barrels laden with dwarves over the waterfall, hoping they would survive.

An orc roared, bringing my attention to a particularly ugly orc swinging his axe at my neck. I jumped out of the way just barely before the orc hit its target. Before I could take care of the menace, an arrow shot the orc in the head, killing it.

Prince Legolas appeared next to me, his bow drawn and an arrow notched. He did not look happy to see the orcs on his land, nor the dwarves that were escaping.

"I could have taken care of that one," I told him, slightly annoyed that my kill had been taken from me.

"Exactly like you 'took care' of the dwarves," he retorted. So he had seen me pull back the lever. I shrugged, showing my indifference.

At the bottom of the waterfall, the dwarves struggled to steer themselves away from the sharp bank of the river. The orcs ran at the side of the river, shooting arrows at the dwarves and trying to hack at them when they came near the shore.

Legolas, me, Rieka, Tauriel, and the other elves ran after the orcs. Rieka pounced on one orc, while I severed the head of another. We fought are way down the river, with the dwarves protecting themselves the best they could from the few orcs that managed to escape the elves.

Always the one to show off, Legolas leapt onto two heads of the dwarves and shot orcs with is bow. As I was taking care of the two orcs surrounding me, an arrow shot through their heads and pinned them together. They fell, dead, at my feet, giving me a clear view of the princeling, who had a tiny smirk on his face.

"I had it under control," I shouted at him as I cut down another orc.

He shrugged, indifferent, the same way I had before. Annoying little princeling. Using the other dwarves heads as stepping stones, Legolas managed to cross the river.

Distracted by the prince, I didn't spot the orc until he had tackled me to the ground. His horrendous mouth gave a sly, evil smile as he pushed his knife towards my neck. I tried to pry the ugly being off me, but he was too heavy.

Suddenly, a white blur knocked the orc off me and presided to snap at its face with a fierce growl. I quickly picked myself off the ground, then slid my sword through the orcs black heart.

Rieka started panting happily, glad she was able to do her job of protecting me.

"Good girl," I said as I rubbed her head. She let out a happy yip, then went off to pounce on another orc.

I looked back to the river, where Legolas was battling an orc. While he was focusing on one, another snuck up behind him. Before I could throw my own sword at the disgusting creatures head, a different sword pierces the orc through the heart. I looked to where the sword had come from, and saw Thorin give an understanding nod to the elven prince.

A small smile formed on my lips. It appeared that the elves and dwarves might be able to work together: eventually. It would take a lot of work and patience, but perhaps it could be done.

I came to stand beside the prince, who was watching the dwarves ride farther down the river. Scanning the area, I found, with a little pride, that all the orcs had been killed.

Thawk!

Legolas and I both turned to see what had made the noise. Tauriel had found the last orc, one that had been trying to kill us with an arrow that looked like it had deflected by Tauriel.

The she-elf made quick work of it, forcing it to his knees and almost decapitating it.

"Tauriel! Wait! This one we keep alive." Legolas shouted to the elf before she landed the fatal blow.

I glanced at Legolas. His face was blank when he shook his head and turned back to the palace. Tauriel's face seemed torn, she wanted to help the dwarves, but she was unwilling to disobey her prince.

"Go, Tauriel," I whispered to the she-elf, "I will follow the dwarves." She looked to me, surprised.

I ignored her as I called for Rieka. Legolas noticed this and turned back to me. "You are going after the dwarves." It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I nodded.

He face turned grim, upset for a reason I did not know. I left him then, not bothering to hear any parting words from the elves. Rieka followed me, as loyal as ever, starting the new leg of our long journey.


	5. Chapter Five

**So, uh, it's been a while. Hi. I'm really really sorry I haven't updated in what, over a week? I really need to set a schedule for myself, and I'll totally get on that, but for now, enjoy the next chapter.**

Dashing through the woods of Mirkwood with Rieka at my side reminded me of a peaceful time, a time when giant spiders did not bother the elves, a time when dwarves could find help from others. Those times was no longer, and I sorely missed them.

Rieka barked suddenly, alerting me to the scent she picked up. She raised her head from the ground and trotted towards Esgaroth, a village on the waters of the lake.

I followed her without question; I knew her nose could pick up a scent better than any other warg. Rieka stopped abruptly, taking another whiff of the air. She growled menacingly, making me put my hand on my sword.

"What is it?" I asked her. She gave me a rough bark, and I have known her long enough to know that the orcs were not much farther up ahead.

"Go on ahead," I prompted her as an idea formed in my mind, "Pretend to be of their pack, but stall them to give the dwarves more time."

Rieka whined, not too happy with my plan. "Do not worry, my friend. Our parting will not be for long. I will meet you in Esgaroth." It hurt to know that Rieka would be among the enemy and that she could be discovered, but I knew she could handle herself well if it came to it.

"I will be there," I told her as I scratched behind her ears. She snuggled up to me, giving her goodbye, before running off into the forest to join the pack. I was on my own now, like the many years before I found Rieka.

It would be best to give Rieka time to run up ahead before I started off again, it would look suspicious if I appeared right after her. I took the time to clean off my sword with a cloth; the blade was still covered in dark orc blood. Once finished, the steel blade shimmered in the sunlight poking through the treetops.

I had been given this sword by elves many ages ago, when I had first started my journey. It was named _Gwathrenang_, meaning Shadowsteel. I would not part with such a weapon easily, as it was lethal, swift, and graceful; everything a true elven sword needed.

As I admired my blade, I heard the sound of crunching leaves. Someone was approaching. My muscles tensed, but I pretended not to have heard the sound; I would catch them off guard if I could.

With one swift motion, twirled my sword into my right hand and had it at the intruders neck. I stopped when I saw who it was, it was Tauriel. The red headed elf stared at me with wide eyes and surprise written on her face.

"_Tauriel, it is only you._" I lowered my sword from her neck, though a bit agitated she was here. "_Why are you here and not with your king?_"

She hesitated before answering, "_I cannot allow the dwarves to be hunted and killed by the orcs. They do not deserve such a vile death, no one does."_

"_Neither do you, Tauriel. I will handle it,_" I told her earnestly.

"_No, you must let me help._" There was a desperate glint in her eyes, as if there was something she was not telling me.

"_What-" _A sudden, pounding pain erupted in the back of my skull and I fell to my knees. Someone had smashed a tree branch across the back of my head. The world around me faded into darkness, but I was able to catch a snippet of words before I descended into the murk.

"_We will find the dwarves, Tauriel, but helping them is not yet decided."_

* * *

Slowly, I regained my consciousness. The sun had risen, making it to bright for my eyes. I tried to feel what was around me, roots and grass underneath me and rough bark behind me. I was at the outskirts of the forest, leaning against a tree, I believe, and my hands were bound behind me.

The realization was enough to force my eyes open. The brightness burned my eyes, signifying I had been out for a while.

"_Man erin, _Farren." A male voice spoke up. It was the elven prince, sitting on a stump not that far away from me. He was sharpening his blades with a stone, preparing for the battle to come if I was every able to get out of these bonds.

"I suppose you plan on not letting me go," I said, lifting my bound hands for him to see. This was a slight annoyance to my journey, but I had handled worse.

"Not any time soon."

"If you want me to take you to the dwarves, I don't know where they are." He looked up at me then, his impossibly blue eyes showing some emotion I couldn't recognize. I will admit, spending so much time with Rieka rather than people has made it… harder to read the emotions of others.

"We already know where they're going, to Erebor, to take back their mountain." He looked back down at his knife, continuing to sharpen it. "They'll awaken the dragon sleeping there."

"I know," I mumbled, creating a silence between us. The last thing I wanted to do was allow the dwarves to wake up the dragon, but I didn't want the dwarves to go without a home, especially after all that they have suffered. My own fears of the beast were nothing compared to what the dwarves felt.

"Than why let them escape?" Legolas spoke up, "_Ada_ told me the wrath of the dragon you faced while in the north, of the scars that you both possess from the battles fought there."

I winced at his mention of the great battles I had fought nearly 3000 years ago. It was the beginning of the third age, Sauron had just been defeated and I was still very young for an elf.

I was living in Lothlórien at the time, with Galadriel and Celeborn. A messenger with terrible news came from the North some years into the Third Age. It was a letter from Meneldil, he required help in the northern reaches of his kingdom. I came with a few other other elves to Gondor, Thranduil was among them.

Those times have long passed, but I remember them well. I owe a great debt to Thranduil from those times. He had saved me when I was injured during battle and brought me to safety, though he endangered himself. That was the day I saw another side to the arrogant king, but I have very rarely seen it since.

"The dwarves have travelled through Middle-Earth many times over, having no place to call home, Legolas. They have fought much, but gained little. It is true that their own folly has brought them here, but our pride may lead us down the same path when we are in need." Surprisingly, my voice remained steady, though my heart ached.

"Tauriel has told me the same," the prince said while putting away his knife and standing up. He gestured for me to get up and I obeyed.

I thought he had no more to say, but as he passed me, I heard him whisper, "And perhaps you are right."


	6. Chapter Six

Tauriel was waiting for us at the river's edge. She did not look into my eyes, feeling guilty for leading me into a trap. I did not blame her, she did not want to be left behind, and it was partly my own fault. If I hadn't been so protective, I would've caught up to the dwarves by now.

Legolas took out one of his knives, turning to me. "If I cut your bonds, will you run?"

"That wouldn't be very bright of me; we are going to the same place after all," I told him, smiling slightly. Despite herself, Tauriel let a small smile appear on her face, though Legolas was stoic as ever. The prince cut my bonds, letting the rope fall to the ground.

The rope had left a sore on my wrist, one that bothered my scars, but I ignored it as I took back my blade.

Looking around at my surroundings, I spotted a poorly-upkept dock with ropes strewn messily across. As Tauriel and Legolas engaged in a conversation discussing which way the dwarves had chosen, I climbed onto the dock and inspected one of the ropes. It was still wet, a tell-tale sign it had recently been used.

"The dwarves found a bardman," I interrupted, standing up and adjusting my sword's sheath, "He took them to Esgaroth, for supplies, no doubt. I suspect they left less than an hour ago."

"They knew the orcs would catch them if they went around," Tauriel commented, coming to stand beside me.

"We will have to cross the bridge, it's not too far, just south from here," Legolas spoke up, putting his blade away. We would not need it with the orcs already far ahead of us. "We will have to travel swiftly if we wish to catch them."

The chilling sound of a warg's howl filled the air, declaring some victory it had accomplished. I sincerely hope that something hadn't happened to Rieka; all I wanted was to storm the orcs, slaughter them all, and have Rieka back at my side, but I knew I couldn't do it alone.

"Where is Rieka?" Legolas suddenly asked. I looked to him, surprised. Barely any elf I had known bothered to learn the name of my companion; they all thought her to be a monster.

"She went after the pack to keep an eye on them," I told him, nervously fidgeting with my belt.

"Then we must travel quickly." Legolas ran off, towards the bridge, with Tauriel following silently, but I stood there, slightly shocked. I wasn't sure, but it sounded like the prince actually _cared_ about Rieka; no one has ever done that except me. It was strange change, but a good one.

I hurried after the two elves, ready to catch up to the orcs and keep them from murdering any more innocent people. Even with the grim thoughts of battle, I couldn't keep a small smile off my face.

* * *

It was dark by the time we arrived at the bridge. The moon shined on the three of us as we ran across the bridge. I could already hear the battle cries of the orcs; they had reached the town before us.

The screams of towns-folk that had spotted the orcs rang through the air, prompting me to move faster. It seemed that most of the orcs were focusing on one house in particular on the north side of the town. That must be wear the dwarves are.

"Farren, take care of the orcs on the south side," Legolas commanded, taking out his bow and notching an arrow.

"But-" I protested, a little irritated to be kept out of the main action.

"Farren," he said strictly, giving me the same look his father gave me while trying to keep me in line. I sighed, but did as he said.

As I ran through the streets of the town, I realized the prince had been right. Orcs roamed the street, terrifying innocent people and destroying property.

One orc spotted me and proceeded to try decapitating me, but I stabbed it through the heart first. Pulling the sword out of its chest, I used the momentum to slice the head off a different one.

Orcs came out me from all over, and I couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. I hadn't fought by myself since before I found Rieka, and it felt strange to not have someone fighting by my side.

Panting hard, I pushed the an orc into the lake. I leaned against the wall of one of someone's house, really wanting a break. These orcs were a lot better at defending themselves than those who had roamed Middle Earth since the Dark Lord's defeat. This worried me.

Orcs were gathering together, spreading over Middle Earth like a plague, and they were getting better. Someone must have been helping them in some way. It could be… no. It can't be him. He's dead, and he's staying dead.

Hopefully.

Trying to shake the disturbing thoughts out of my head, I picked myself up and made my way quickly to where Legolas and Tauriel were. There were no doubt a greater number of orcs than my side of the city, and besides, I already took care of the vile creatures Legolas assigned me.

As I ran to the house the dwarves were supposedly in, I met some orcs that had been fleeing. My sword quietly took care of them on the bridge in front of the establishment.

Unexpectedly, the elven prince landed in front of me, making me take a step pack in surprise.

"Come, there are more," Legolas said, then took off running after a much larger orc I hadn't seen before.

I glanced up at the balcony he had seemingly jumped from. Tauriel stood there, her face showing indecision as she glanced between Legolas and inside the house. I suspected Kili was in there, perhaps injured.

Tauriel locked eyes with me, as if asking what she should do. It wasn't really my decision, but I gave her a small affirmative nod. If Kili was injured and Tauriel left him, I knew she would never forgive herself.

I turned and chased after the prince just as another tremor shakes the ground. Stumbling, I tried to straighten myself and risked a glance at the mountain.

Smaug had awoken, and he was not happy.

* * *

The prince blocked the blow of an orc, then plunged his knife into its chest. I had to admit, Legolas fared well in battle. We had never fought together before, so I found this as a surprise.

After knocking an orc arrow heading for my heart out of the air, I turned to the prince, silently wondering what to do next. The orcs had fled once they found out the dwarves were gone, and they would no longer be a threat to the town whilst chasing the dwarves down.

Before he could say a word, the sound of the orc language reached our ears. I searched for who had spoken and found the larger orc Legolas had chased after. He looked to be in charge of the other orcs and were giving them orders.

I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I had a hunch it was something to with us, from the way he came marching back towards the town.

Legolas put away his knifes and ran to the

alley the big orc was stomping to. Two orcs followed behind him, and I doubt Legolas had taken time to see them, so I went after the prince to help.

Just as Legolas stepped into the alley, the large orc came into view on the other side. I stood slightly behind the prince as he glared at the monstrous beast. The monsters armor looked as it was apart of him, with metal parts jutting hazardly all over the place. His head looked held together by the metal alone, and it was disturbing to look at. But his face was the worst. All orcs were ugly, but this one in particular; his face was riddled with scars and one of his eyes were milk white.

"Ugh," I groaned, taking out _Gwathrenang_, "It looks like he just finished a botched surgery."

The orc growled and readied his own weapon, a large metal mace with deadly spikes. I took notice of the red tint at the end of each spike, prompting me to really, really not want to get hit with such a weapon.

Legolas took out the blade at his hip; _Orcist_ is its name, I believe. It was the blade he had taken from the dwarf, Thorin. Where he had got it was anyone's guess.

The ugly orc let out a low growl, then stalked towards the prince. Legolas advanced as well, but his progress was stopped by the two orcs I had noticed earlier. They both swung their blade at him, but he deflected easily.

I jumped into the fight and blocked another blow an orc aimed at Legolas. I pushed the orc back and kicked him in the chest, knocking him down. The prince kept attacking the larger orc, leaving me with the other two.

Twirling out of the way from stabs and ducking under swings from the orcs was easy enough, until one managed to cut me on the shoulder. Wincing, I backed away from my attackers. Luckily, it had been my left shoulder and not my right, so I could still wield my sword, but it didn't keep the wound from stinging.

I clutched onto my sword even tighter, trying to ignore the pain. There was no way I was going to let two orcs defeat me. I blocked each deadly blow the orcs made at me, barely able to serve any lethal swings myself.

At last, I managed to stab my sword through one of the orc's hearts. One down one to go. After pulling my sword from the orc's chest, I blocked the attack of the other orc, then kicked its ugly face. His stunned steps back gave me just enough time to sever his head from his shoulders.

Breathing hard, I looked up to find Legolas being thrown into a wall. The orc he had been fighting limped away while the prince was down, holding an arm to a cut in his stomach. With a single command, the orc had three new minions of his face jump from the roofs and attack us.

I wanted to go after the large orc, but I couldn't with these new menaces. Legolas stood up a little shakily, but he looked perfectly fine when he got out his bow and took aim at one of the orcs. He fired his arrow as I stepped forward to stab an orc in the stomach, then kick him back as I pull out my sword.

Only one orc left. Before me or Legolas could take care of the monster, a white beast jumped from the rooftops and landed on the orc. The white beast non-to-kindly ripped the head off the orc. The beast looked up and I realized it was Rieka.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I ran forward to wrap my arms around her neck. "I'm glad you're okay."

The sound of heavy breathing made me look up at the prince. He was leaning against a pole, staring at his hand with a look of shock on his face. A small amount of blood was on his finger, probably from his bleeding nose.

I raised an eyebrow at him, standing up. "Scared of a little blood, princeling?" My laugh died in my throat when I spotted the large orc riding out of town on the back of an orc.

Minutes later, Legolas and I were following the orc on the back of a white horse Legolas had found. Rieka followed on our heels, preferring not to be ridden upon.

Another roar shook the ground, making me glance at the Lonely Mountain once more. I hope the dwarves and Bilbo were alright.


	7. Chapter Seven

By the time me, Legolas, and Rieka reached the shore, the large orc and his party were already far ahead.

Legolas, having the reins of the horse, stopped at the end of the bridge that connected Esgaroth to the mainland. He fixed a hard glare on the orcs that were fleeing too fast and were too far off for us to catch up.

Being shorter than the prince, I had to peek over his shoulder to see the large orc leading the pack. The earth quacked once more, and I found myself subconsciously clinging to Legolas tighter, but I didn't care once I spotted what had made the earth tremble.

"Legolas," I whispered, my voice failing me. He turned to see what had bothered me, but what he saw made his muscles tighten.

Smaug was free from the mountain. And he was flying towards Esgaroth.

Legolas turned our horse and spurred it back towards the town, Rieka following close behind. He urged the horse to go as fast as possible, running towards a target I knew to be Tauriel. The realization left a twang of some sort of pain in my heart, but I had not the time nor the concentration to figure out way.

I jumped off the horse once we arrived in the town, Legolas swiftly following. Many of the townsfolk were fleeing the city by the bridge, while others were fleeing by boat.

Smaug's terrible roar blasted through the air as he burned down another building. My right hand tingled, as if remembering the pain it went through thousands of years ago. People ran past me, screaming and begging for the dragons mercy, but their pleas landed on deaf ears. I desperately wanted to help them, but my legs refused to move.

Visions of my past kept flashing in front of my eyes. Elves and men alike armed themselves against a fire wielding beast. Cities were burned to the ground. Children cried. Women fled. Corpses littered the ground. Fields were burned. People were starving. Fathers and brothers wielded fought against an impossible foe. Fire burned all around me. There was no escape, I was alone. Alone again.

* * *

I remembered that day, the third battle in the war between dragon and elf. Hundreds were already dead and more would join them soon. They city was burning, people were screaming, despair filled the atmosphere. It was the end for all. Nothing could save us.

Sobs racked my broken body. My sword, half melted, laid at my feet as I clutched my burnt hand to my chest. I collapsed to my knees, regret taking over my thoughts. It was my fault; my fault. I shouldn't have come, I was useless. I couldn't help them.

* * *

A sudden jolt brought me back to reality. Rieka had shoved me out of the way of a stream of fire shot from the mouth of the dragon. Others hadn't been so lucky. I turned away from the gory seen, blinking back tears. Now wasn't the time to reminisce the past; I was needed now.

"Thank you, _mellon_," I told Rieka, who then rubbed her nose into my side as a 'You're welcome.'

As I helped a fallen women stand up, I searched the area for Legolas. He had already taken off, probably to find Tauriel. Guess Rieka and I were on our own.

Smaug let out another booming cry, shaking the fragile structure of the town. I watched as the great beast used his claws to take out the top of a tower. The dragon flew past it, then circled back around. I saw two figures scrambling to get atop the tower as Smaug approached. A long, black weapon was held in the hands of one. A black arrow.

"Rieka," I shouted to my friend, then ran off towards the tower. Rieka followed loyally, easily able to leap across the rubble and catch up to me.

I kept a steady eye on the two people on the tower. They appeared to be positioning themselves in some strange way. The shorter one stood on the edge of the tower while the taller one balanced the black arrow on his companions shoulder.

What in Middle Earth were they doing?

As I got closer, I was able to hear the voice of the great dragon. "Hmm. Is that your child? You cannot save him from the fire. He will burn!"

I pulled up to the tower, then realized the stairs had crumpled, so I scaled the side. While the Smaug taunted the two people on top of the tower, I climbed up to a ledge that I could easily stand on. Rieka watched worriedly from below, hoping I would not fall.

"Hey, torch face!" I shouted as loud as I could at the dragon. My voice alerted the dragon, leading him to search for me. Once he spotted me, he growled, instantly recognizing me.

"You…" Smaug's terrible voice resounded through the air.

"Glad to see you remember me. It's been a while!" Despite my brave words, I couldn't stop my knees from trembling.

"You are the warrior from long ago, the one to drive my kin from our home," Smaug bellowed as he prepared to spit fire at me. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"And so are you," I pointed out, "Looks like we both got to live a little longer."

"I know you are here to stop me, but you can do nothing. This town will burn to ashes, and so will the dwarves when I'm finished!" Smaug let out a long, deep laugh, confident with his victory. I snuck a glance towards the archer and his arrow, they were almost ready.

"You know I cannot allow that, Smaug." I tightened my grip on my sword, ready to unsheath it if needed.

"And what are you going to do about it, little one?"

"Not me, oh Smaug the Impenetrable, but them." I pointed upwards, where the bowman had already shot the arrow at the beasts heart. The black arrow held true to its purpose and pierced the dragon straight to the heart.

The great and terrible 'beast' let out a high-pitched scream, then began to fall towards the bell tower. I grabbed onto the stone of the tower, but I knew it wouldn't help.

The tower crumbled under Smaug's great weight. Unable to hold it in, I screamed as the tower, me, and the other two figures came crashing to the ground. Along the way, I had fallen unconscious from an especially large chunk of stone hitting my head.

* * *

When I came too, I felt the familiar tongue of a certain warg companion licking my face. I groggily sat up and found myself in a pile of rubble and splintered wood. My head throbbed from the stone and my shoulder stung from my earlier wound. I touched the side of my head and felt the sticky texture of blood.

"Are you alright?" Someone asked me. I looked up to see the archer and the shorter figure standing over me with Rieka at their side.

"Yes, I'm quite alright," I said, trying to control the shake in my voice. I had survived much worse before, and this was no different, though the crashing tower was new.

I got to my feet, but found that my legs did not to cooperate. Rieka kept me up straight, and I was grateful to have her to lean on.

"We best go unless we want to sink with the rest of the town," the older one said. Upon closer inspection, I found that the two of them looked similar; they must have been Father and son.

I tried limping on my own, but then the discovery of a new injury stopped me. My ankle had twisted when I landed, and I found it very annoying that the other two had been injured as badly as me. Perhaps because they had been on the top and hadn't had half a tower fall on them.

"Here," the older one wrapped his arm around me and helped me walk to where a lone boat drifted in the water. He helped me into the boat, then grabbed an oar as Rieka jumped in. He seemed slightly wary of her, but said nothing about it.

Rieka settled in beside me and tried to keep still so the boat would not rock. The man and his son took positions on either end of the boat and started to row us towards shore.

"Thank you," the man spoke up suddenly, "For helping us. You didn't have to."

I smiled. "Oh, but I did have to." When the man gave me a questioning look, I explained why. "I had fought Smaug centuries ago, when I was still very young. I thought I had killed him, but he had survived. When he came to Erebor and took over the home of the dwarves, I couldn't face him, not again. It is my fault for the destruction he has caused here, and I'm a deeply sorry." I sighed as I stared at the small waves our boat created on the lake's surface.

I wish I could change what had happened all those years ago, before I met Rieka and came to stay in Mirkwood. I greatly regretted all I had failed to do when I was younger.

"It seems you have had a long past. I do not blame you for the actions of Smaug, in no way could you have controlled him," the man said as he steered us to shore.

"I- Thank you," I stuttered, surprised. It seemed that not only were the times changing in Middle Earth, but the people as well. It was a nice change.

Father and son rowed in quiet as we continued our way towards shore. I couldn't keep myself from glancing back at the ruined town once in a while. The rising sun cast an yellow light, revealing the full ruin of the town. Flames still burned bright, working their way through the rest of wooden town.

It was a heartbreaking sight. Those who had resided there were either dead or homeless. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to let the dwarves escape, maybe I should have left them to the king's dungeons. Now the people of Esgaroth were without a home, while the dwarves soaked in their golden treasures.

"What may I call you, dragon-slayer?" I spoke up, realizing that I hadn't gotten his name.

"I am Bard, and this is my son, Bain," the man answered, "And may I call you?"  
"I am Lady Farren of the North, but just Farren will do. And this is Rieka, my companion." Rieka let out a happy yip with my mention of her name. She was a very friendly pup, but the blood surrounding her mouth and the mud caked on her feet did not help convey that image.


	8. Chapter Eight

The shore was now merely feet away, so Bard jumped from the boat and into the water. He pulled the boat onto land, then helped me from the boat. My ankle felt a lot better, but it still hurt when I put pressure on it, so Bard had to help me walk to what seemed to be a camp made by the townsfolk.

Rieka and Bain trailed behind us as we made our way to the center of the camp. A woman was handed out dry clothing and blankets to the refugees, spreading a kind word when needed. A greasy, black haired man came up to her and demanded one. I immediately took a dislike to the man from the way he treated the woman with disrespect.

"Oh, find your own! You're not in charge now, Alfrid Lickspittle," the woman was saying.

"That is where you are wrong. In the absence of the Master the powers seethes to his deputy, which in this instance is my good self. Now give me that blanket!" The greasy little man tried to take a blanket from the woman, but she would have none of it.

"Master's Deputy? Don't make me laugh. You're a sneak thief, more like. I'll be dead before I answer to the likes of you." The woman tried to rip the blanket out of Alfrid's hands, but failed.

"If you'll excuse me," Bard said, seating me on Rieka so he could deal with Alfrid.

"By all means." I smirked. I was starting to greatly respect this man. First, he slayed a dragon, and now he was dealing with a slimy worm that was mistreating a woman.

"Maybe that can be arranged." Alfrid raised his hand to strike the women, but Bard stopped him.

"I wouldn't go turning on your own, Alfrid. Not now," Bard suggested, letting go of Alfrid with a little push. Bain stuck out his leg and Alfrid tripped over it, falling to the ground.

"Da!" The voice of a young girl shouted. Two girls, both with brown hair and blue eyes, ran up with bright smiles on their faces.

"Come here," Bard cheered happily. The younger girl jumped into his arms, then is lifted up by the strong man.

"You're alive!" The older girl came and gave Bard a hug, while he draped his arm around her.

It occurred to me that the two girls must have been his daughters. There didn't appear to be a mother, though. She must have died years prior.

"It's alright," Bard said, smiling down at the older daughter.

The other townsfolk watched the family's happy reunion, wonder on some of their faces as they stared at Bard. I suspected many of them had seen him take down the dragon.

One of the men decided to speak up then, "It was Bard! He killed the dragon! I saw it with me own eyes. He brought the beast down. Struck him dead with a Black Arrow!"

Many of the people gasped in shock, then they started to cheer for the bravery of the man. They gathered around Bard and his family, trapping them in a circle. I couldn't see what was going from over here, so I urged Rieka forward into the crowd.

"You've saved us all, bless you," one village exclaimed. I chuckled lightly and stroked Rieka's fur as she carried me forward. She didn't usually enjoy being ridden, but she understood that there was no way I could walk on my own currently.

When the villagers in the back noticed me, they cleared a wide path for us to pass. They stared at Rieka wearily, not sure if she would attack or not. Their stares focused on me just as much. An elf riding a warg? How very strange.

Because of the wide berth the villagers gave us, we quickly reached a point where I could see. Alfrid, the greasy old worm, was holding Bard's arm aloft, but Bard quickly pulled himself out of the weaker man's grip.

The crowd was too angry to notice me, so I sat quietly at the sideline with Rieka, allowing the scene to play out. It wasn't my place to interfere anyway.

"I have said it many times, this is a man of noble stock. A born leader," Alfrid was saying, undaunted.

"Do not call me that. I'm not the Master of this town," Bard paused to look around at the townsfolk, "Where is he? Where's the master?"

"Half way down the Anduin, with all our coin, I don't doubt," a woman said, pointing at Alfrid, "You would know. You helped him empty the treasury."

The greasy man shrunk away at her accusing finger. "No. I tried to stop him."

The voices of the lake people shouted at his words.

"Liar!"

"Thief!"

"You're a mongrel!"

"I begged, I pleaded," Alfrid continued in vain.

"Do away with him!" I was surprised at the villagers shouts. In such a time of stress and need, shouldn't they be trying to help each other instead of kill one another?

"I said, 'Master, no!'" He pleas were most likely false, and the people knew it. "Think of the children." He reached out and grabbed the younger daughter of Bard. "Will nobody think of the children?"

The young girl kicked the disgusting man in the shin and ran back to the safety of her father. The older girl held onto the girl, ready to protect her from the desperate Alfrid.

"Hang him!"

"To the tree with him!" These statements alarmed me the most, and I knew I had to do something.

"Bard, I don't think that would be a wise decision," I spoke up as the crowd laid their hands on Alfrid. Bard, alarmed at my voice, turned around to see me sitting calmly on Rieka's back as the chaos unfolded around us. He gave a stiff nod and turned back to the crowd.

"Enough, let him go! Let him go!" Bard interrupted the angry crowd. They obeyed his orders and dropped Alfrid to the ground. "Look around you! Have you not had your fill of death?"

Alfrid, grateful, scrambled to his feet and tried to put his arm around Bard's shoulder, but the low growl from Rieka stopped him. He suddenly seemed to notice our presence and backed away from us, stumbling to the ground.

"Winter is upon us. We must look to our own, to the sick and the helpless. Those who can stand, tend to the wounded, and those who have strength left, follow me. We must salvage what we can," Bard continued, unfazed by Alfrid's shock.

By now, some of the other villagers had noticed Rieka and me. I could tell some of them wanted to ask what an elf was doing here, but were too exhausted, worried, or both to particularly care right now.

"And what then? What do we do then?" A woman asked from the crowd.

Bard looked to where the voice had come from and said, "We find shelter."

"If I may suggest, Bard," I spoke up to him as the crowd dispersed.

"Yes, Farren?" He asked politely.

"The city of Dale is empty, and many of its defenses are still up. It may be the best place for your people to stay as you rebuild." I tried getting off Rieka and standing as I spoke, but my ankle needed to be set before it even started to heal.

"It might be the very place we need, but your ankle must be set before you start walking again, my lady." He seemed to notice his two girls staring at wonder at me and Rieka. The younger one's mouth was agape, while the older tried her hardest not to stare.

"Tilda, Sigrid, can you help Farren? She injured her ankle during the fight," Bard asked his kids. They both nodded enthusiastically, greatly wanting to interact with such a strange elf.

Bard and his son went to go help their fellow men, leaving the girls and I alone. Tilda, who I had found out to be the younger one, found some drift wood left over from the town to use to keep my ankle in place, while I teared a piece off my dull blue cloak off and gave it to Sigrid. The older girl gently took off my shoe, then bound the wood to my swollen ankle with the cloth and completed the brace.

"Thank you," I told the two girls as I tested the makeshift support. It would heal quickly now, mainly because I was an elf.

"Why do you have a giant wolf?" Tilda spouted all of a sudden. I smiled at the younger girl, but Sigrid looked mortified.

"Tilda, you can't just ask someone that!" Her older sister exclaimed.

"It's quite alright, Sigrid. I'm surprised nobody asked me earlier, you'd think seeing a giant wolf accompanying an elf was normal." I laughed softly at my own joke, but the girls didn't seem to get it. Tough crowd. "Rieka is my good friend, she has been with me for a very, very long time. I wouldn't part with her easily."

"Where are you from?" Sigrid asked once realizing that I was comfortable with their questions.

"Most recently, the Woodland Realm of the Elves, but nowhere really." I stroked Rieka's fur as I talked; her soft fur brushed by my hands like a cloud. She was still covered in orc blood and mud, marking her in serious need of a bath.

"Nowhere? You don't have a home?" Tilda asked with shock. I nodded sadly, making both girls turn their heads down.

"Just like us, I suppose," Sigrid mumbled.

"Now, it's not that bad. I've had my own sort of fun in the years since, and so will you," I said cheerily, trying to keep their spirits up. An idea came to me that would most definitely cheer the girl's up. "Would you like to help me bathe Rieka?"

Both girls immediately perked up, bright smiles on their faces.

"Can we?" Tilda asked in amazement.

"Of course! I'm not in much shape to do it by myself anyway." I shakily got to my feet, with Sigrid helping me, "We'll go to the lakeshore. The water's good enough. Come along."


	9. Chapter Nine

I sat on the rocks of the lakeshore as I watched Tilda, Sigrid, and Rieka play in the water not too far from me. The girls giggled as Rieka once again splashed them with water. Her fur had been cleaned already, thanks to the girls, and now they were just having some fun.

It was a happy sight, seeing the two girls play, after such death and destruction. It reminded me of when I was younger, before the destruction of my home, but that had been more than three millenniums ago.

I looked up at the sky to try and determine what time it was. The sun was well above the horizon by this time, but not yet noon. I suppose it was time to head back to the camp.

"Sigrid, Tilda, we best head back now," I called to the girls. They looked up at me, disappointment on their faces, but they did as they were told.

By now, my ankle felt much better, so I could walk on my own now, though with a bit of difficulty. Sigrid, Tilda, and Rieka joined me as I limped toward the camp. The limp was barely noticeable, but still there.

When we got back to camp, I was surprised to see Legolas and Tauriel speaking to Bard. The dwarves were nowhere in sight, so I assumed they went to join their kin at the Lonely Mountain.

"Girls, why don't you go gather supplies? I have a feeling you will be leaving soon," I said to Sigrid and Tilda, trying my best to have a cheery voice.

"Are you not coming with us?" Tilda asked sadly. I turned to look at her, surprised.

"Did you want me to come with you?" I was shocked, to say the least. In the past years, not many had wanted my presence.

"Of course! You said you didn't have a home, and neither do we. We can find a home together!" Tilda said excitedly. Sigrid placed her hand on her sisters shoulder, a small smile on her face because of her sister's enthusiasm.

"What she means to say is that we would love it if you would stay with us." Sigrid's voice had a slight hopeful hint to it.

I thought about her offer. It had been a very long time since I had found a set place to live. I've always traveled Middle Earth with only Rieka, and I loved it, but the prospect of having a place to stay excited me. It had been a long time since I had left Lothlórien, the closest thing I had to a home. Perhaps it was time to settle down.

I desperately wanted to say yes, but when I looked to where Bard, Legolas, and Tauriel were speaking, I hesitated.

"Your offer is tempting, but I can't make any decision quite yet," I finally said. Tilda looked disappointed, but Sigrid, ever the teenage girl, seemed to understand my hesitancy.

"Come on, Tilda, let's go help," Sigrid said, dragging off her little sister towards the other townsfolk.

Rieka looked up at me and cocked her head as if to ask a question. I sighed and kneeled down so our faces were at the same level.

"I don't think it's time to settle down yet, we still have work enough to do in our world. Maybe in some years, but I promise we will eventually." I scratched her behind her ears, her favorite spot.

Standing up, I walked over to where Bard and the elves were having their conversation. Alfrid was there too, but I hadn't seen him before because of the way he was hiding behind Bard. It seemed that the greasy little man was scared of Rieka and I. Good.

"Where will you go?" Legolas asked when I came up to stand beside Bard. I shared a look with Bard, reminding him of our conversation from earlier.

"There is only one place," Bard looked to the mountain and, more importantly, Dale.

"The Mountain? You are a genius, Sire. We can take refuge inside the Mountain. It might smell a bit of dragon, but the women could clean that up. It'll be safe and warm and dry, and full of stores, bedding and clothing, the odd bit of gold," Alfrid interrupted, annoying me and everyone else.

"I do not believe that would be wise, Alfrid Lickspittle," I spoke up before anymore idiocy escaped his mouth.

"What gold is in that Mountain is cursed. We will take only what was promised to us, only what we need to rebuild our lives." Bard gave the stack he was holding to Alfrid, who then shoves it into the hands of an older woman.

"Here, pull your weight," the man sneered. I glared at him, then took the wood from the old woman and gave it back to Alfrid.

"Why don't you pull your weight first?" I suggested, giving him a sickly sweet smile. The woman gave me a grateful smile, then scurried off before Alfrid tried the same trip again. The short man glared at me, then left to do what he was told.

"News of the death of Smaug will have spread through the lands," Legolas said solemnly. I nodded in agreement with him.

"Aye," Bard said with a sigh. He looked tired and unsure what to do.

"Others will now look to the Mountain for its wealth or its position," Legolas continued.

Glaring, I elbowed him in the ribs and muttered, "Not helping, princeling."

Bard narrowed his eyes at us, "What is it you know?"

"Nothing for certain. It's what I fear may come," Legolas looked out towards the forest. He was right, it was only a matter of time until the more unsavory creatures came to claim the gold of the mountain.

Bard sighed, his weariness and worry clearly evident with the sound. I put my hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. "Do not worry. Focus on getting your people to safety, everything else will fall into place."

"Thank you, Lady Farren." Bard put his hand on mine, some of his worry melting away.

"There is no need for formalities, Bard. I've told you to call me Farren." I shook my head slightly and removed my hand. Bard only smiled at my reply and walked away.

When Bard left, Tauriel finally spoke up, "You saw something out there?" Her question was directed to Legolas, but I knew of what she spoke.

"The Orc I pursued out of Lake-town, I know who he is. Bolg, the spawn of Azog the Defiler. A Wargpack was waiting for him on the outskirts of Esgorath. They fled into the north. These Orcs were different from the others, they bore a mark I had not seen for a long time. The mark of Gundabad." Legolas spoke quietly so the townsfolk would not hear and panic.

At mention of Gundabad, my hand involuntary grabbed the handle of my sword. I had not heard that name for many years, and for a good reason.

"Gundabad?" Tauriel asked, too young to remember the name.

"An Orc stronghold in the far north of the Misty Mountains," I answered for her. A chill ran down my spine as I remembered all that had happened at the cursed fortress. Legolas remained silent; his mother had died there, and the memory still haunted him and his father.

The sudden sound of a racing horse interrupted any further conversation. We all looked up to see an elf riding at full speed towards us. I knew him to be Feren, an elven messenger for the king.

"_My Lord Legolas. I bring word from your Father. You are to return to him immediately_," Feren said as he stopped his horse in front of us.

Legolas looked at me, a silent question on his face. I shook my head no; I wouldn't be returning with him. There was still much I needed to do here.

"_Come, Tauriel." _Legolas went to follow Feren back to the Woodland Realm, but Feren made no move to leave.

"_My Lord…Tauriel is banished,_" Feren spoke up. We all looked to him in surprise. Tauriel, banished? The king must have been furious to take such action.

"_Banished?" _Legolas asked cautiously, shocked just as much as the rest of us. I could already see the gears turning in the prince's head, trying to decide what to do.

Tauriel was just as shocked, and heartbroken. I put my arm around the young elf in comfort as tears threatened to fall. She had been kicked out of her home quite roughly, and I was willing to do what I could to help her.

Legolas seemed to have finally come up with a decision when he spoke again. "You may tell my father if there is no place for Tauriel, there is no place for me."

"Legolas, it is your King's command," Tauriel spoke up, wiping away her tears. She was a strong elf, I had a feeling she would do just fine.

Legolas turned back to Tauriel and spoke directly to her. "Yes, he is my King, but he does not command my heart."

I smiled, proud of the prince. He was finally thinking for his own, and it made me glad. But there was something else there I found hard to identify, some emotion I was unfamiliar with. I had perhaps felt it before, but never for another elf. It was strange and I wasn't entirely sure I liked it.

Feren looked over all of his, an annoyed look on his face. How I loved to cause trouble for the king's servants, and Feren was no different.

"You may leave now, Feren. And tell Thranduil I may not return for quite a while," I said cheerily. The elf shot me a glare, than rode his horse back to where he had come from.

"I ride north. Will you come with me?" I had thought Legolas had been talking to Tauriel, but it appeared to be both of us.

"To where?" Tauriel asked.

"To Gundabad," Legolas answered, facing the direction of the fortress.

"I still have much to do here, princeling." I gave the prince a sad smile, then stepped away from the two elves. "Perhaps we shall meet again, in times to come." Before I turned to leave them, I bowed to the prince, my sad smile turning to a smirk.

"Until we meet again," the prince confirmed, then he and Tauriel took their leave to find horses.

"Until we meet again," I muttered.


	10. Chapter Ten

"Farren!" Tilda cheered when she saw me approaching her and Sigrid. I smiled warmly as the young girl ran up and threw her hands around me in a hug. "Have you come to stay?"

"For the time being, little one. Come, let us start on our journey." I took the girl's hand and led her to the front where her father was leading the townsfolk to Erebor. Sigrid walked on my other side, a basket of the goods she was able to collect in her hands, and Rieka padded along behind us.

"Did the elves leave?" Sigrid asked when she noticed I was the only one of my kin around.

"They have gone to investigate something of importance," I answered her.

"And you didn't go with them?" Tilda spoke up, slightly surprised.

"Well, of course not. They don't need me anymore, and I doubt they ever did. Besides, I would much rather spend time with you two."

Tilda beamed up at me, happy to have my company. Sigrid only smiled, but it seemed that there was something bothering her. I left the topic alone, choosing to address it later.

Our small group made our way to the front, where Bard and Bain were leading the entire town to Dale. Alfrid groveled along behind them, and when he spotted Rieka and I, he backed away even farther.

"Ah! Farren, it is good to see you among us!" Bard exclaimed as he saw us approach.

"I'm grateful you would have me, Bard."

The rest of our journey fell into silence, except from the occasional question from a curios Tilda.

"Have you been to Minas Tirith?"

"I have."

"Is it as sparkling white as they say?"

"Indeed. In the olden days, it nearly hurt to look at."

"What about the ancient forest in the south?"  
"Fangorn? Yes, I've been there before."

"Did you meet the walking and talking trees of legend?"  
"Indeed. They're lovely conversationalists, though they do take their time."

"Oh! I've heard of stories of an elven realm with such large, golden trees. Mother said the trees were the tallest in all the land and that the most radiant elven maiden resigned in that forest. Is it true?" The young girl had such wonder and amazement in her eyes, her imagination running wild with all the tales she had heard.

"It is quite true. I grew up in that forest, we call it Lothlórien. The trees grow as tall as the sky, and the leaves have never fallen from their branches. Great homes are built into the trees, and the roots of each tree span on for at least a mile." As I described my childhood home, happy memories came to mind from when I was child.

After Fae Thalas, the home of my ancestors, was destroyed, Galadriel and Celeborn took me into their home and raised me to who I am today. I was eternally grateful for their effort and love they have given me in the past.

"Have you met the elven maiden?" Tilda asked, breaking me from my daydream.

"Yes, I have. She and I know each other personally, and I would like to visit her again some time soon."

"Is she really as beautiful as the stories say?"

"No. She's even more beautiful. Her long, golden-silver hair flows down like a river, and her pale skin glows in the moonlight. Her grey eyes sparkle like the light of the stars, her beauty is unmatched by any in Middle Earth."

The other townsfolk had listened in on our conversation by now, and many of them were just as amazed as Tilda.

"You sound as though you miss her greatly," Bard spoke up, as he too had been listening to my stories.

"Oh, I do. I miss her very much. She is like a mother to me, and parting with her had been very hard." I sighed, recollecting all that I longed to have again from Lothlórien.

"Why did you leave your home?" Sigrid asked.

"There was something I had to do, something of great importance that I could not ignore." I fiddled with my belt, unwilling to say anymore.

Tilda was just about to question me, when gasps of amazement filled the air. Looking up, I spotted what the townsfolk had been gasping at; the ruins of Dale.

"There it is!"

"The city of Dale!"  
"We're nearly there!"

I grinned at the shouts of joy the townsfolk made. They were coming to the home of their forefathers, where the basis of their culture and beliefs began.

"'Tis a glorious sight, is it not, Farren?" Bard said as I came to stand next to him.

"Indeed, Dragonslayer, indeed." I was in awe of the beauty of not only the city, but the great gate that laid behind it. The gate to Erebor.

"Hurry, hurry, we're almost there," Bard urged his fellow townsfolk. The company began moving again, spurred on by the sight of the city.

After a few more hours of traveling, we finally made it to the city. The place was certainly in need of good repair, but most of the buildings and walls held strong, even after all these years.

"Have you ever visited Dale before?" Tilda asked me as we picked our way through the rubble.

"Yes, but it was quite a long while ago, before Smaug came." I suddenly realized that it had been perhaps centuries since I've been to this part of Middle Earth. I really needed to visit more often.

"I bet it looked a whole better than this," Tilda grumbled, kicking a small rock out of her way. I let out a small laugh, amused by her antics.

"Come on, keep moving," said Bard to those who had fallen behind. Some of the townsfolk were weeping with joy at finally being here, while others looked around, confused. I suppose they had thought of something grander than this city, but it would have to do.

"Sire! Sire! Up here!" Alfrid called from atop the wall. Bard went to go join him to see what the man wanted.

"Make camp here tonight. Find what shelter you can. Get some fires going," Bard shouted from his place on the wall. He then turned away to speak to Alfrid.

"Come on, Sigrid, Tilda, Bain, let's go find a nice warm place to rest," I called to the children. We desperately needed a fire, many of the smaller children were shivering violently due to the winter cold, Tilda included.

We made our way to the center of city, multiple people following us. Finding wood to burn was easy enough, Esgorath had been made completely out of wood, and many of its townsfolk had brought some with them.

I swiftly built a fire, perhaps using a little bit of elven magic to get the fire to a blaze. The people gathered around the fire, grateful for the warmth.

"Wait here, I'm going to go help the others," I said softly, for Tilda was already dozing off into a quiet slumber with her head on Bain's shoulder while Sigrid was fighting to stay awake.

A great number of the townsfolk were having trouble lighting the fires, and I was glad to help them. As I walked around the city, I noticed that the townsfolk were low on food and water. They would not last long without help, but I didn't know what I could do.

"There must be a better way to help these people than lighting fires, Rieka," I muttered to my friend as I finished yet another fire. The rubbed her nose against me, sympathetic. It was frustrating to watch these people starve, not being able to help where it truly mattered.

After making sure I did all I could, I returned to Bard's family. Bard was sitting in front of the fire I had made with Sigrid's head in his lap. The children were fast asleep, there soft snores keeping the silence away.

Rieka settled down next to the fire, quickly falling asleep because of her exhaustion. I could last a few more days without sleep, but I may not be able to sleep in the days to come. Creatures were already flocking to the mountain by this time, and a great battle may ensue in the coming days.

I sat down next to Rieka, my back leaning against her like so many times before. Her soft fur and large body made an excellent pillow, and Rieka didn't mind when I laid against her.

"How is your ankle?" Bard asked softly so as to not wake the sleeping children.

"Much better, your daughters did an excellent job." The fire crackled between us, surly highlighting both our faces. Bard looked tired, worn, and much older than he actually was. His worry for his fellow men was extraordinary, and I greatly respected him for it.

"Good. You took a great blow when that tower fell on you. It was a miracle your friend was able to find you in all the destruction." He nodded his head towards Rieka in acknowledgement.

"She has a good nose, even after all these years." I pet the fur of Rieka's paw as she slept, the action soothing my troubled mind.

"How old is she?"

"Seventy, old by her kin's standards but young by my own. She will come to live many more years by the gift of the Valor."

Bard nodded, lost in his thoughts. When he spoke again, his question surprised me.

"And how old are you?"

"I turned 3,227 last spring."

Bard's eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. "You don't look a day over twenty-five, my lady."

"Thank you, Bard, but my kin age very differently from you. Twenty-five is still considered a young child to us."

"Amazing. Are there elves older than you?"

"Of course, though there is not many. The War of the Last Alliance killed many elves, including all in Fae Thalas. I am the last elf from that realm." I sighed sadly at the heartbreaking memories from thousands of years ago.

"What is Fae Thalas?"

"An elven realm that housed me and my ancestors."

"What happened to it?"

"It was completely destroyed by the Dark Lord and his forces before the last battle. I am the sole survivor, and only because of Lord Celebron's efforts. I would be dead by now if it wasn't for him and his lady."

"What was Fae Thalas like?"

I teared up at his question, the pain reemerging like an old wound. "I, I do not know. I was much too young to remember any of it."

"I am sorry," Bard said solemnly, regretting his question.

"Don't be, it was millenniums ago, before even your great grandfather was born. Besides, the past is the past; we must leave what is behind us and move forward." I smiled at the old saying Celeborn would say to me when I felt sorrow over my past. "Now sleep, Bard the Bowman, a new day shall come and it will be a long one."


	11. Chapter Eleven

The long night had been cold and cruel to everyone. I had barely sleep and what sleep I had were plagued with nightmares from my past and possible future. Despite the aching cold, I had sweated throughout the whole night.

After the eighth time waking up in a cold sweat, I decided to just get up for the day. My movements nearly woke Rieka from her slumber, but she fell quickly fell back asleep.

I tiptoed my way away from the sleeping figures of Tilda, Sigrid, Bain, and even Bard. The family all slept soundly, unbothered by my leave.

The sky was bleak and gray, reflecting my dull mood. Not many had awoken yet, and I couldn't blame them. The sun was barely on the verge of rising, so there was not much light.

My heightened eyesight allowed me to move through the darkened city easily. It was silent all around, only the soft snores of some of the townsfolk could be heard.

It made a person feel lonely, in this depressing atmosphere. The townsfolk knew there days would be numbered if they did not find help soon. I wanted to help, I truly did, but what could I do?

I walked to the great wall that surrounded the city, then climbed the stairs to get a better view of the area. The gates of Erebor laid directly in front of me. Braziers burned in front of the gate, signaling the survival of the dwarves and Bilbo.

I smiled, glad the company had survived. It must have been a long journey to reach their home, and I dearly hope they would mess up their chances now, especially by denying the laketowners their fair share. Dwarves could be greedy, but I trusted that Thorin, as the new king under the mountain, could overcome the challenge.

A commotion in the city below led me to look down at the townsfolk. Many of the people had woken up, Bard and his family included.

Bard was walking through the city, checking on his people. A man walked beside him and it seemed that they were deep in conversation.

I descended the steps to join Bard, excited to have something to keep my mind occupied.

Bard smiled when I came near, though I could see dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. It appeared that I wasn't the only one it hadn't slept well.

"Good morning, Farren," Bard called to me.

"Good morning, Bard. How are things?" I asked him."

"Not good, I'm afraid," Bard answered gravely. I fell into step next to the men as we made our way through the city.

"These children are starving. We need food. We won't last three days. Bard, we don't have enough," Bard's companion, who I believed Sigrid called Percy, said.

"Do what you can, Percy." Bard picked up a bucket full of water to carry to some survivors while Percy stayed behind to comfort others.

"It will be alright, don't worry," Percy mumbled to a worried woman.

"We need more water," the woman choked out. I put a gentle hand to her shoulder, than continued to follow Bard.

"The children, the wounded and the women come first," he announced to his fellow men. They nodded in agreement, then started distributing their goods around. One such man tried to give me some bread to eat, but I politely refused him.

"I am quite fine, thank you. I do not need any food." I smiled at the man, then ran after Bard, who was going to check on Alfrid.

"Morning, Alfrid. What news from the night watch?" Bard asked him. The man was sitting down, a sleepy look on his face. He stood up, still a bit drowsy, when we approached him.

"All quiet, Sire. Not much to report. Nothing gets past me." I seriously doubted the statement made by Alfrid, and it didn't take long for my suspicions to be confirmed.

Bard, Alfrid, and I walk outside to see an elven army clad in golden army to be waiting at our doorstep.

"Except an army of Elves, it would seem," Bard commented, his eyes and mouth wide in shock. His brow then furrowed in confusion as he walked to the elven army. I followed closely behind, eyeing the elves with a unsure luck. What in Middle Earth were they doing here?

The elven army parted as Bard and I walked through them. We reached the back, where we found Thranduil riding his elk towards us. My eyes narrowed, annoyed and wary at the king's presence.

"My Lord Thranduil, we did not look to see you here," Bard asked. I stood behind him, a very noticeable hand on my sword to send Thranduil a message. If he even _thought_ to manipulate or hurt these people, he will sorely regret it.

"I heard you needed aid," Thranduil said, looking to the gate he had just entered. A team of horses dragged in a car full of food for the townsfolk. The people gathered around the cart with gasps of delight, surprise, and gratitude.

Some laketowners jumped onto the cart and began handing out supplies to the people. I looked at Thranduil, deep suspicion in my gaze.

"Oh, would you stop looking at me like that?" Thranduil asked in exasperation, "It might surprise you to find that I do have a heart."

"And you aren't giving these people supplies because you want something in return?" I asked him.

"They have nothing to give, Lady Farren," he answered bluntly. I knew he was right, so I left the topic alone.

"You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you," Bard exclaimed, having not heard the exchange between Thranduil and I.

"Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine." Thranduil fixed an intense stare at Bard. I desperately wanted to jump in and say something deeply insulting to the king, but I decided that I would do it private, without the prying ears of men or elf.

"What is it?" Bard asked.

"Gems that rightfully belong to me. And I am fully prepared to fight for their return." Thranduil turned away and started to lead his army on a march to Erebor.

"Wait! Please, wait! You will go to war over a handful of gems?" Bard called after the king, following him, with me at his heels, to the edge of the city.

"The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken," Thranduil answered stoically.

"Couldn't say the same about your people," I muttered. No doubt Thranduil heard me, but he made no reaction to it.

"We are allies in this. My people also have claim upon the riches in that Mountain. Let me speak with Thorin." Bard spoke with such conviction, that Thranduil turned to look at him.

"You would try to reason with the Dwarf?" Thranduil asked, doubt in his expression.

"To avoid war. Yes."

I gave Thranduil a pointed look, letting him know we would be having very _choice _words if he were not to take the advice of the bowman.

Thranduil let out a gently sigh, then stopped his army from advancing any further. "Fine. Lady Farren, Bard, come with me."

The king signaled to his elves to give us horses, then rode his elk to the front of the line. Sigrid noticed the two of us climbing atop our horses and came over to see what was going.

"Da?" The girl asked, standing a few paces away so as to not get hit.

"We are going to meet with the dwarves. Stay here and stay safe," Bard commanded his daughter, then rode off to join Thranduil.

"Can you tell Rieka that I will return in a few short hours?" I asked Sigrid before joining Bard. She nodded in confirmation, then I rode to the front to join Thranduil.

We journeyed to the mountain with an untiring past, wishing to be there and back before nightfall. After some time, Bard fell back, leaving me and Thranduil in the front, alone.

"I see you have grown attached to these men," Thranduil spoke all of a sudden. I snuck a glance at the king, but his face was unreadable, much like his son.

"I have," I spoke, unashamed.

"You grow attached much too often."

"And you don't grow attached enough." Thranduil looked at me, both shocked and annoyed, but I simply stared ahead.

"If you are speaking of what happened to Tauriel, it was not my fault. She disobeyed her king directly."

"She is a good elf and a good soldier. Taking such drastic measure was not a wise decision."

"I was not the only one who made rash decision. She _choose _to go after those dwarves." Thranduil's calm tone was severely annoying, and it finally made me snap.

"But Legolas was in _love _with her!" I shouted at him. The words brought a strange ache to my heart, as if they hurt to say. The topic had recently brought me strange feelings of contempt, and I wasn't sure why.

"And she was in love with a dwarf!" Thranduil roared back, but then composed himself to deliver his next statement. "She would've broken my son's heart in two."

This softer side of Thranduil stopped me from saying anymore. He truly did care for his son, and he was trying his best, but ever since his wife had died, it had not been easy.

"I do have a heart, Lady Farren, and I do care for my son," Thranduil finally mumbled. He pulled ahead of me, signalling our conversation was over.


	12. Chapter Twelve

"You two should wait here. I do not think the dwarf would take it kindly if two elves showed up at his doorstep," Bard said to us once we reached the edge of the bridge right outside town. I nodded to him and stopped where I was, Thranduil doing the same.

There was an awkward silence between the two of us, neither one willingness to speak first. His words from earlier still rang in my head, and I was surprised to find a genuine not to what he had said. I had never expected Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, to ever be so open with me. He had always hid his pain from the world, and I hardly blamed; his past held more misfortune than most. In a way, he reminded me of his son, though I suppose Legolas was a bit more friendly.

My thoughts turned to Legolas's hopefully safe journey to Gundabas with Tauriel. I had no doubt that the two of them could handle themselves, but the road was treacherous and the end even more so. Great horrors had taken place in that fortress, including the deaths of many good elves. It would hurt the most for Legolas, for his mother had died in that fortress. I knew her. Not well, I must confess, but I knew her to be a great elf, queen, mother and wife. It saddened me greatly at the news of her passing, but more sorrow increased when I saw what it did to Thranduil. He had truly loved that woman, as I had seen in years past, and she was the best part of him.

I snuck a glance at Thranduil, who was staring after Bard with a blank expression. Despite my mistrust for the elf because of some of his actions, I couldn't help but be in awe over how much he cares for the well-being of his people. Sure, this did cause him to turn down those in need, like the dwarves, but his actions were for his people, mostly. I still didn't agree with Tauriel's banishment.

When I had first met the elven king, he had been different, incredibly different. His smile was more often seen, due to his wife at his side, and he was more willing to help others, but that had been long ago, almost 3,000. I hadn't even turned 300 yet when I ran off to fight dragons at the side of other elves. By his wife's insistence, both of them kept a careful eye on me and protected me on various occasions.

"Do you trust this man, Lady Farren?" Thranduil asked, referring to Bard. I had thought my opinion was of no worth to him, but I could be wrong. He has kept me around longer than most, and, on occasion, took my council.

"I do. His intentions are true, and he has a good heart," I answered him. The black horse I rode upon shuffled on the stone, and I could sense she was a little uneasy. Leaning down, I stroked the horse's mane, trying to calm her.

"Your horse is new to war," Thranduil commented. I nodded, distracted, though he was right, I could sense it in the horse's heart.

"What is her name?" My mind briefly wondered why he had brought a new horse not used to the intensity of battle, but I forgot the fact once Thranduil answered me.

"Nalya. Her mother died not two weeks ago battling the spiders of Mirkwood. Nalya has taken her place for the time being."

The black mare shifted around more at the mention of her mother. The elven connection to animals allowed many of the more temperamental animals to understand our words, horses included.

"Be calm, Mellon," I whispered to Nalya, stroking her mane. Rieka, catching on to what I was doing, sat down next to my horse and remained still. Her menacing fangs and her strong haunches would make anyone uneasy.

With my comforting words, Nalya calmed down, though she was still nervous. Poor girl. Maybe there was something I could do for her, but not at this tie. I settled with slowly rubbing her neck in calming circles.

"Your connection with animals has always been stronger than most," Thranduil commented, not looking to me but still watching from the corner of his eye. He was pretending to not care, but I could it bothered him that his own steads were more comfortable with me rather than him.

"Indeed," I said with a tiny smirk. I was relishing the discomfort of the king, but it did not last long. The sound of hooves hitting the road caught our attention and we spotted Bard riding towards us. The look on his face testified that the meeting with the dwarves had not gone well.

"He will give us nothing," Bard announced, coming to a stop before Thranduil and I. My face turned grim and my insides twisted. What I had feared almost as much as the dragon came to pass. Dragon sickness. They turned even the best men into greeder hoarders that will defend what they have with their dying breath. It seems that the illness has gotten a hold of Thorin now.

"Such a pity. But still you tried." I shot Thranduil a glare at his words, to which he did not seem to care. The complete indifference of his voice annoyed me to no end, and he definitely knew that.

Bard looked around at the landscape and at the city behind us, confusion evident in his expression. "I do not understand. Why? Why would he risk war?"

"It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand only one thing." Thranduil took out his sword and inspected the blade, seeming to be in thought. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his dramatics. The king looked up again and declared, "We attack at dawn."

King Thranduil turned the moose he rode upon (again, he's a very dramatic man, won't even ride a normal horse like the rest of us) and began riding back into the city.

Once noticing that neither Bard or I followed, he paused and called back, "Are you with us?"

I looked to Bard, for I would do whatever he did. I owned it to him and his people to help in anyway I could, even if it meant going to war against dwarves.

"Aye," Bard said after a moment of hesitation. I could see a hint of a smirk on Thranduil's face as he led Bard into Dale. With a sigh, I followed. This would not end well for anyone.

Soon after Bard's meeting with Thorin, the former residents of Lake-town began raiding the armory. Not much was left from the defenders of yesteryear, but enough to supply the few men that would fight.

Bard had ordered that all who would fight would train, for none of them were actual soldiers, most had never even wielded a knife, save for the use in the kitchen. I had been asked by Bard to do what I could to prepare them, but it would take much work.

Walking through the ranks of new soldiers, I tried to correct the improper stances and grips of the men, but many of them were very stubborn, especially since a woman was teaching them. I responded to these less than cooperative men by showing them exactly how I survived on my own for so many years. Rieka had been called to help carry provisions to the great hall with the children. Lucky pup.

Other elves had been assigned the task of teaching the people to fight, and I noticed that the townsfolk listened a lot better when their teacher was decked out in full armor and carried multiple weapons. Along with their own task of being a mentor, many of the elves somehow found time to sneak glances at me. I suppose they had heard the stories that were so kindly spread about me. Most of these "stories" were not flattering to myself, but to those who did not have a keen liking to me. To name of few of these events that so generously kept circling in the elven gossiping market would take too much time because of how elaborate and long the elves loved to make them. As you could probably guess, I would be trying very hard to prove these rumours wrong and to crush any belief they had about me.

Agitated by all the stares and disobedience I was receiving from elf and men alike, I had not noticed the approach of a very old friend until their horse clambered into the main courtyard. I looked to who could have possibly rode into the courtyard so fast and was met with a delightful surprise. It was Gandalf!

I ran to where the gray wizard sat upon his horse, pushing through the throngs of people that had hastily given the man a wide berth. The sight I was met with when I reached Gandalf was enough to make me smile. The old wizard was bickering with the greasy figure of Alfrid.

"Yes, you. We don't want no tramps, beggars nor vagabonds around here. We've got enough trouble without the likes of. Off you go. On your horse," Alfrid shouted at the powerful wizard. Gandalf ignored the rude man's statement, scanning the crowd for someone of some importance. The our eyes locked and I felt myself smile, just a little.

Smiling a true smile, Gandalf jumped off his horse and nearly ran to meet me. The wizard rested his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes, his own twinkling with the happiness of seeing an old friend again.

"Lady Farren, it has been long," the wise old wizard said in his deep voice. I took in the sight of Gandalf, and found that he had the same long gray beard and hair, the same dark, wise eyes, and even the same wrinkles in all the same places.

"Too long, my friend." I patted Gandalf's hands, glad to see him again. The wizard looked around, as if expecting that I would not be alone.

"Where is Rieka?" Gandalf questioned.

"Helping in the great hall with the children." Gandalf raised an eyebrow at this and I chuckled.

"I did not think you would be so easily parted," Gandalf teased. I rolled my eyes, even if he was thousands of years older than me, he would always be childish.

His face suddenly turned serious and I could see a hint of fear in my friends eyes. Something was coming, and it was not good.

"Now, tell me, my lady," Gandalf said with a grave voice, "Who's in charge here?"

"Who's asking?" Said a familiar voice from behind Gandalf. It was Bard, he seemed to have rushed to the courtyard when he heard a commotion therein.

The gray wizard straightened and turned to face the bowman. I could tell he was looking Bard up and down, trying to evaluate the man. Bard did the same to Gandalf, or Mithrandir, as the elves called him.

"Gandalf the Gray," the old wizard finally said, "I wish to seek council among the leaders of this city. I have something of grave importance you must know."

"What is it, Mithrandir?" I asked solemnly. Bard looked to me, perhaps seeing me for the first time since I stood partially behind Gandalf.

"There are more than greedy dwarves that you must fear," Gandalf said in an almost whisper. None of those near us reacted to it, so he must have used magic to ensure only Bard and I heard.

Upon hearing these not so reassuring words, Bard locked eyes with me, silently asking what he should do. Why is it everyone always goes to me for the answer? I had no place in their decision, yet they wanted my approval for whatever they do. Despite my irritation, I nodded to Bard.

Bard turned his eyes back to the wizard and said, "Come with me."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Bard took us to a yellow tent where I knew Thranduil resided in. It was a private council, so I stopped before reaching the tent. Bard noticed this and, to my surprise, frowned.

"Lady Farren, you are just as much a part of this as the rest of us. Your presence will be needed in the council," Bard said with an authority that I had not heard from him before. It appeared that he was growing into his role as the leader of his own people, and that was truly a good thing.

"Of course." I followed Bard and Gandalf into the tent, slightly surprised by Bard's words. I had never considered myself a leader of any sort, but I suppose both Thranduil and Bard considered me my own realm. The thought made me silently laugh; men were amusing when faced with a woman just as or more powerful than themselves.

"Mithrandir," a steely voice cut into the air. Thranduil, and he did not sound pleased. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"A vast army of orcs heading to the mountain," Gandalf said, his voice cool despite the words he said. "They seek to destroy all that is and claim the mountain as a fortress of great evil."

"The only ones that seek to claim that mountain are the atrocious dwarves," Thranduil snapped, irritated at Gandalf's interference.

"You must set aside your petty grievances with the Dwarves. War is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You're all in mortal danger," Gandalf said, his voice deep and worrisome. I had no doubt he was telling the truth, and it terrified me to know that Sigrid and Tilda and Bain and all the other little children were in danger.

"Dol Guldur as well?" I whispered to myself. I realized that the orcs we fought were from Gundabad; another orc fortress. Are numbers were too small to fight both fortresses.

"What are you talking about?" Bard asked, his voice conveying his fear. Before I could answer the bowman, Thranduil spoke up.

"I can see you know nothing of wizards. They are like winter thunder on a wild wind, rolling in from a distance breaking hard in alarm. But sometimes a storm is just a storm." The way Thranduil calmly walked around, pouring something from a pitcher into glasses, displayed that he did not care and was not concerned. For once in his life, couldn't he just take the advice from another? Is that too much to ask?

Gandalf fixed a critical eye on the king, not appreciating his rough words. "Not this time. Armies of Orcs are on the move. These are fighters, they have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength."

"Why show his hand now?" Thranduil asked in an almost mocking tone.

"Because we forced them," I finally spoke up, tired of their bickering. "We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland. And do not seek to lay the blame on only the dwarves, Thranduil, we all have an equal share in this."

"Lady Farren is right," Gandalf said, strolling outside the tent to for a view of the mountain, "The Dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor, Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His master seeks control of the Mountain, not just for the treasure within, but for where it lies, its strategic position. This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the North. If that fell Kingdom should rise again Rivendell, Lórien, the Shire even Gondor itself will fall."

My eyes widened at the mention of Angmar. We could not allow the recapture of those awful lands. I've heard tales of what had transpired to rid Middle Earth of the country, and nothing good could come of it if Sauron reclaimed those lands.

"We can't let that happen, Mithrandir," I said with a trembling voice. My voice always gave away what I was feeling, and I hated it.

Thranduil rolled his eyes and said, "Your concern is misplaced, Lady Farren. These Orc armies you speak of, Mithrandir, where are they?"

Gandalf, surprised, tried to grasp at some answer, but there was none. Eventually, he sighed, saying, "I do not know."

"Then you shall forgive me if I doubt your words," Thranduil said with a smug smirk, triumphant.

"That is very little to base your belief on," I snapped at the king. He met my glare with one of his own, never breaking my gaze.

"What I do and do not believe does not concern you, my lady," Thranduil growled, trying his hardest to stay composed.

"It does when it threatens the lives of others!" I was enraged by his lack of empathy for those who could not defend them self. Those orcs were coming, and most would die without his needed protection, and yet he stood here, denying what could be.

"Have you started to care for these humans?" Thranduil sneered, "Yet they have never cared for you. And I doubt they will after they find out what you've done." He whispered the last part so only elven ears could hear him, and I did, quite clearly.

I couldn't help myself, his words hurt, a lot, though I tried not to show it. Instead, I stormed out of the tent, furious, hurt, worried, sad and so many more emotions for myself and others. But the mention of my past hurt the worst. Everything I had done by mistake, everything that I had ever done wrong come pouring down on me: I didn't hunt down Smaug and kill him, I didn't save that family from dragon fire, I didn't stay in Lothlórien to be with those who saved me, and I didn't protect my only friend before Rieka from death. Almost everything I did resulted in someone's death or pain; maybe it would be best if I stayed away from everyone, forever.

My thoughts led me to wander throughout he rest of the day, but I finally stopped outside the great hall, where Sigrid, Tilda, and Bain were hoarding food. All the women and children were doing to the same, preparing for a long battle. The pain of all that I had done kept me from focusing, and I didn't notice a young girl come running towards me until she had rapped her arms around me.

With a weary smile I bent down and returned the gesture. The young girl was Tilda, and she looked absolutely joyous to see me. It made my worries lessen, but only a little.

"Farren! Guess what! I found my teddy bear!" She let go of me and held up a rough looking toy that resembled a bear. Her smile was so bright and happy, it made my own heart hurt at the thought of leaving her. I already felt such a deep connection to the girl, and her sister and brother; I would never leave them, that I knew.

"What is your little bear's name?" I asked her, smiling.

"Mommy named him Mr. Brown." Her smile faltered a little bit when she mentioned her mother, and I felt a twang of sympathy. I knew the exact pain that she was feeling, I've felt that same pain for thousands of years.

Before I could say anything to the girl, I noticed some of the elves position themselves in the walls while others march outside the city wall.

"What are the elves doing?" Tilda asked as she realized the change.

"Taking positions to kill," I said gravelly. Tilda's face paled, terror evident in her eyes. She was much too young for the sight of battle. "Come on, lets go somewhere safe." I gently lead her into the great hall, where those who would not fight were waiting.

"Tilda!" Sigrid shouted once she spotted her younger sister. She and Bain came running towards us and Bain grabbed Tilda from me while Sogrid began to lecture her. "We had no idea where you'd gone. We were so worried, and then the elves started marching and we thought we worst."

Tilda looked sheepishly at the ground, ashamed. "Sorry, I just wanted to find Farren and show her Mr. Brown." I smiled down at the young gir and put my hand on her shoulder.

"You should tell your siblings where you go, Tilda. These are dangerous times, and we wouldn't want you hurt." I looked up at Sigrid, who still looked slightly angry. "For now, I think a warning is good enough."

Sigrid's anger melted and she nodded, embracing her little sister. The scene was interrupted by shouts from outside. A very particular voice resounded above he rest; Gandalf's. His council with Thranduil must have ended, and it appeared to not have gone well after I left.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I am needed else where." I waved goodbye to the threesome and ran outside to meet Gandalf. As I had expected, he was storming through the lines of tents, absolutely furious at the elf kings stubbornness. Suddenly, he stopped in front of Bard, who had been addressing his newly trained soldiers.

"You, bowman! Do you agree with this? Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of Dwarves?" He asked the man. Bard turned to him, his brow furrowed. I hurried over to them, coming to stand on the side of the two men.

"It will not come to that. This is a fight they cannot win," Bard said bravely despite the fact he was talking to a very powerful, very angry wizard. The two stared at each other, until the voice of a very brave Hobbit interrupted them.

"That won't stop them. You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own." The one and only Bilbo Baggins came running towards us.

I'm sure it gave Gandalf quite a shock, because he exclaimed, "Bilbo Baggins!" Bilbo smiled at the old wizard, elated to see him again. I breathed a sigh of relief, I had though he moth have died once he reached the mountain, but he was alive, alive and safe.

"I am glad to see you safe, Master Baggins," I spoke up softly. Seeming to only just realize that I was here, he looked at me and his smile grew even wider.

"It is good to see you, Lady Farren," Bilbo said almost immediately. I smiled and patted the Hobbit on his shoulder I'm a way of comfort. I am sure he had been through a lot since I had last seen him some days ago, and I could wager they weren't pretty things.

"We must go to see Thranduil," Bard spoke up. He didn't want to anger the elf that was feeding his people by with holding information. I nodded and gently lead the Hobbit to the yellow tent.

Bard opened the tent door for us and we entered the king's presence. When he saw us, he raised an eyebrow, but then he realized who this paticular Hobbit was and his expression turned stoic.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the half king who stole the keys to my dungeons with Lady Farren's help," he said as he sat down on the throne-like chair in the room. "And from under the nose of my guards." He looked at me with that last statement and I shrugged in response.

"Yes," Bilbo drawled out, looking a tie embarrased. "Sorry about that."

I heard a soft chuckle come from Bard, who was sitting on some boxes, looking amused. He seemed impressed by the halfling, and I suppose they had met some time before.

Findign his courage, Bilbo stepped forward and said to the king, "I came… to give you this." The Hobbit pulled spherical, cloth wrapped object out of his pocket and placed it in the table in front of Thranduil. He unwrapped the object and revealed what was within. My breath caught in my throat; it was the Arkenstone.

Bilbo took a step back as Thranduil rose from his throne. "The Heart of the Mountain," the king said in a whisper, "The King's Jewel."

Bard, Gandalf, and I took a step forward to stare at the jewel. I had never seen such a beautiful gem, swirling in all different colors: blue, red, yellow, white and so much more. It was hypnotizing to look at, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the beauty.

"And worth a king's ransom," Bard breathed in amazement. Bilbo nodded in confirmation, thought I doubt anyone saw him do so. Bard turned to the hobbit, his brow furrowed in confusion. "How is this yours to give?"

"I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure," Bilbo said, with a hint of a shrug. I prayed my eyes away from the stone and looked to the little hobbit in wonder. He was willing to give up a treasure such as this?

"Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty," questioned Bard. Gandalf looked to the hobbit in a very thoughtful expression, one I had seen many times in the wizard's face.

"I'm not doing it for you," Bilbo shook his furiously, "I know that Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. Now, Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war."

I couldn't help but be amazed with the hobbit. He left his home, so he could help others regain theirs. He put himself in danger countless times to protect others. He was standing here, now, with a jewel that his friend desperately wanted, and was giving it to those who needed it more. Hobbits truly are the strangest of all creatures on Middle Earth, and I was grateful for that.

Bard and Thranduil shared a look with each other. I couldn't tell if it was one that they would give each other after knocking a wizard out, or one of pure amazement over the hobbit. It was probably the latter.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"I am sure Bilbo has had a long trek," I said, breaking the silence. "Come along, Master Baggins, let us find a place for you to rest." I lead the hobbit out of the tent and I could hear Gandalf following. He must have something to say to the hobbit, maybe something he did not want Thranduil or Bard to hear.

"Rest up tonight. You must leave on the morrow," Gandalf told the hobbit as we walked through the city.

"What?" Bilbo asked, pausing in his steps.

"You need to get as far away from here as possible," I sighed, knowing Gandalf was right. Bilbo could not stay once Thorin learns that Bilbo gave them the Arkenstone.

"I-I'm not leaving," the hobbit said bravely. Gandalf frowned but let Bilbo countinue. "You picked me as the 14th man. I'm not about to leave he company now."

"There is no company, not anymore," Gandalf interjected, "And I don't like to think what Thorin will do when he finds out what you've done."

"I'm not afraid of Thorin."

"Well, you should be," I spoke up, interrupting their argument. "Don't underestimate the evil of gold. I have seen the best of men gone sour because of their lust for gold."

"Listen to Lady Farren. The gold that Thorin now has is gold over which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this mountain." Gandalf looked down at the hobbit, then added, "Almost all."

He looked up again, into he sea of people that were in Dale. "You there!" Gandalf called to a passing man, who happened to be Alfrid, "Find this hobbit a bed and full his belly with hot food. He's earned it."

Alfrid looked as though he wasn't going to follow the order, but I gave him a pointed look. Grumpily, he sulked up to us to lead Bilbo off. Gandalf grabbed his arm as he paced and said to him in a low voice, "Keep an eye on him. If he should try to leave, you tell me."

Alfrid glared at him, then countinued on his way, shouting "Move it!" at Bilbo and muttering "Stupid hobbit," to himself. I narrowed my eyes at the man and pierced my lips. I could already tell this wouldn't end well.

Gandalf stared after them with concern in his eyes. He felt he same way as I, but he was too weary to think anymore of it. I put my hand on his shoulder, directing his attention to me.

"You need to rest as well, Mithrandir. I can tell you have not rested in a while, and even an elf would start to feel tired after so long," I told him in a gentle tone.

"Indeed. Tomorrow, we ride to confront Thorin, and I do not believe it will be completely peaceful," Gandalf said with a sigh. He was right, as always. I just hope that the Arkenstone will help.

After a restless night in the Great Hall with Sigrid, Tilda, and Bain, I prepared to go with Bard, Gandalf, Thranduil, and the elven army to council with Thorin. I didn't want to bring weapons, but I knew I would need them. After Rieka and I fed on a light breakfast, we joined Thranduil, Bard, and Gandalf to march to Erebor.

I ended up on the black mare, Nalya, again. She seemed glad to be paired with me once more, having immediately pranced to my side once I was spotted. I giggled as Nalya nudged her head into my arms to be pet. Rieka huffed, not happy with the attention the horse was getting.

"Come now, Rieka," I said sternly to the jealous wolf, "Don't be like that." She didn't respond, only began to sniff Nalya, determining her worthiness. I rolled my eyes at her behavior, she could be so protective sometimes.

"Come along, Farren, it is time we left," Gandalf instructed after whatching the scene. I nodded, if only a little bit embarrased, and hopped onto Nalya. Thranduil and Bard left already to be in the front of the army and to confront Thorin. I sincerely hoped it ended better than last time.

"Goodbye Farren! Bye Rieka!" Tilda called from where she stood on the wall. Her, Sigrid, and Bain had run atop it to watch the soldiers go and call farewell to those they knew. I smiled at them and waved, Rieka letting out a short bark as goodbye. I then spurred Nalya onward and we were on our way, to a place that would eventually be the grave of many, but I did not know that at the time.

"The children have taken a likeing to you," Gandalf said soon after we left the city limits.

"Do you think so?" Gandalf must have read something in my voice because he gave me an almost disappointed look.

"You took King Thranduil's words to heart, didn't you?" When I didn't answer him, he let out a sigh. "The words people say when angry mean nothing, my lady, Thranduil especially. He is angry and worried, though he does not show it, and he takes it out on you, because he trusts you the most with his cares. Why else would he invite you to all his councils when his own counselors disapprove?"

"But-" I started to argue, but Gandalf cut me off.

"Just take my advice, Lady Farren." His kind smile made me shut my mouth and no longer argue. I wanted to argue because inside, I felt that what Thranduil had said was true, but here was Gandalf the Grey, a dear friend and wise man, telling me otherwise. I suppose it would not hurt to listen to him, after all, he rarely had been wrong before.

I gave a small nod and Gandalf smiled again. "Good," he muttered softly, looking to the distance in front of us, "Now, tell me, did you really think I wouldn't notice your injuries?"

"Injuries?" I asked in bewilderment, unsure of what he spoke of.

"Of course! Your shoulder is soaked with blood, you're walking with a limb," he paused for a second, then said the next part quietly, "And the scars on your hand are visible."

My eyes widened and I couldn't help but sneak a glance down at my hand. He was right. Ugly, red, blotchy skin covered my entire right hand and my wrist; it was a scar that only showed itself when I was too weak or tired to hide it. My exhaustion had gone unnoticed by myself since the night I left Mirkwood and it made me wonder how long ago the scar was revealed.

I stared at my hand, curled it into a fist, then uncurled it. It didn't hurt, it was just… uncomfortable to see it. I didn't like my past, and the scar was just a cruel reminder of all the mistakes I had made long ago.

Gandalf kept his gaze on me as I did all this, searching my face for a response. "Are you truly alright?" I snapped my gaze away from my hand and cleared my throat.

"Yes, yes. Don't worry, just a little tired, that's all," I said, far too quickly to be convincing.

He narrowed his eyes and stared at me before finally responding. "If you say so," the older man muttered. He didn't sound convinced, and I suppose my words weren't that persuasive when faced with a bloody shoulder, limp, and an old scar. But my shoulder wound had closed up and the splint Sigrid made for my ankle worked well, so I believed I was perfectly fine for the time being. Besides, I had gone into battle worse.

The two of us lapsed into silence as we countinued our march to Erebor. I nervously twisted Nalya's reins in my hand, on edge despite the steady pace Nalya had set. I worried for Legolas and Tauriel who could be anywhere right now. For all I know, the two elves could have been killed, but I tried not to think about it.

Finally, after what seemed to be ages, we arrived at the gates of Erebor. Gandalf and I promoted our horses to where Bard and Thranduil sat in front of the gates.

An arrow was shot right before the elven king with a shout from inside Erebor; "I will put the next one between your eyes." It was the voice of Thorin. I spotted him on the wall, clothed in expensive furs and rich armor. He had definitely changed, and not for the better. Dragon sickness had overcome him, his judgement was now clouded and his greed multiplied.

I tried not to, but I still regretted letting those dwarves out of the dungeon. I shouldn't have helped them, and now the people of Lake-town are without a home, Thorin is ill in the mind, and a war was about to start. Why couldn't I just think of the consequences beforehand? I'm over 3,000 years old and I'm still making foolish decisions like this. What kind of elf am I?

My thoughts were distracted when the entire elven army aimed their bows at the dwarves on top of the wall. They hid from the elves eyes, but it would be no use. The elves could probably shoot them without seeing them anyway. After a moment of silence, Thranduil gestured for his people to lower their bows and they obeyed.

"We've come to tell you payment of your debt has been offered and accepted," Thranduil called to the dwarf, unfazed.

"What payment? I gave you nothing. You have nothing." Thorin stood up and grated at the army below him. To show proof, Bard took out the Arkenstone from within his coat.

"We have this," the bowman stated, holding the stone up for Thorin to see. The dwarves were silent for a moment, then they began t shout in outrage.

"They have the Arkenstone. Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king," Kili shouted above the rest.

"The King may have it, with out good will," Bard announced calmly as he put the Arkenstone back in his pocket. "But first he must honor his word."

"They're taking us for fools. This is a ruse, and a filthy lie. The Arkenstone is in this Mountain, it is a trick!" Thorin roared. I winced, my fears coming true. There was no way the dwarf would believe us.

"I-it's no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them," a quieter voice said from behind Thorin. It was Bilbo. How in Middle Earth did he manage to slip by all of us and climb the wall? Perhaps he used that little trinket of his from his grandfather.

By this time, I had come to the front of the line, besides Bard, but Gandalf had disappeared somewhere. He did that a lot actually.

"I take it that negotiations aren't going well?" I asked quietly. Bard looked at me and shook his head with a frown. I looked back up at the wall and said, "Bilbo will help, don't worry."

With the enhanced hearing I and all elves bore, I was able to listen to the comversation from atop the wall.

"You?" Thirin asked with disbelief.

"I took it as my fourteenth share," Bilbo responded in turn.

"You would steal from me?" Thorin's voice rose with anger.

"Steal from you? No, no. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I'm an honest one. I'm willing to let it stand against my claim." Bilbo's bold claim made me cringe. That was not the thing to say to Throin at the moment.

"Against your claim?" Thorin chuckled darkly, "Your claim? You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!"

"I was going to give it to you. Many times I wanted to, but…" Bilbo trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"But what, theif?" Thorium growled.

"You are changed, Thorin. The Dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin." Bilbo stood straighter with his words and I tightened my grip on the reins, worried.

"Do not speak to me of loyalty." Thorium turned and addressed his kin, "Throw him from the rampart!"

I nearly jumped from my horse, but Bard gripped my arm and pointed to where quietly Gandalf made his way to the front gate without a horse. I gritted my teeth and stayed where I was, but I still readied myself to act at any moment.

Luckily, the dwarves made no move to obey his orders. Angered, Thorin shouted, "Did you not hear me?! I will do it myself." He grabbed hold of Bilbo and nearly shoved him off the edge.

"Bilbo!" I cried and jumped off Nalya. I ran to the gate just as Throin was about to shove Bilbo off.

"I curse you!"

**A/N Sorry for being inactive lately. I haven't abandoned the story, I promise. Me and my family are just doing a lot of traveling right now so updates for the rest of the summer will be few and far in between, but I promise I will update!!**

** \- M.M. Wilcox**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

"If you don't like my burglar, then please don't damage him. Return him to me. You're not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?" Gandalf came rushing to the front after me and I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he could talk some sense into the dwarf.

"Never again will I have dealings with wizards!" Throin shouted as he let Bilbo go, thankfully not over the wall. I saw a dwarf whisper something to Bilbo and he scampered down the wall. "Or Shire rats!"

I ran to the end of the rope Bilbo was using to climb down and helped him to the ground.

"Mr. Baggins, you are one lucky little hobbit," I said with a smile. He grinned back at me, then followed me to where Gandalf stood. "We ought to keep a better eye on you from now on, yes?" His grin turned sheepish and he nodded.

We turned our attention to where Bard was addressing Throin once more. "Are we resolved? The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised." He paused, but he received no answer from the dwarves. "Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?"

Thorin was about to give us his answer when a black crow came and landed right beside him. A smirk took its place on his face as he announced, "I will have war."

The sound of marching feet alerted all of us to another presence. I turned and saw a large army of dwarves marching towards us. One dwarf rode on a ram before the mass and he sat proudly. He was no doubt their king because I have never met a king who rode on a normal horse.

"Oh dear," I mumbled to Bilbo and Gandalf, "I believe that would be-"

"Ironfoot," Gandalf finished glumly. I heard the dwarves cheer the dwarf's name while Thranduil ordered his elves and he Lake-town people to face the new threat.

"Who is that? He doesn't look very happy," Bilbo asked, looking up at us.

"It is Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills. Thorin's cousin," Gandalf answered.

"Are they alike?"

"Oh, goodness no. Dain is far more stubborn and quite rude, I might add, but that might be because I'm an elf," I huffed, upset. No matter what I tried, Dain still despised me; his hatred for elves must be very strong.

"I've always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two," Gandalf countinued as the dwarf army marched closer and finally stopped some yards away.

"Good morning! How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider… Just sodding off?!"

The people of Lake-town backed away at his shouting, frightened of the dwarf. They began to murmer amongst themselves when Dain countinued to shout, "All of you! Right now!"

"Stand fast!" Bard cried to his people, his sword out.

"Gandalf, I believe this is the part where you intervene," I whispered to the wizard.

"Right, yes, of course." Gandalf cleared his throat and swiftly made his way to stand in front of Dain. "Come now, Lord Dain."

"Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood," he growled for all to hear. Bilbo, still next to me, looked up with a terrified face.

"You might want to find a place to hide soon enough, Mr. Baggins," I told him gently, putting a hand in his shoulder. He gulped and looked back to Dain and Gandalf.

"There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men and Elves. A legion of Orcs march on the Mountain. Stand your army down." Gandalf stopped in front of him, standing tall despite the ram riding dwarf in front of him.

"I will not stand down before any Elf. Not least this faithless woodland sprite." Dain pointed his weapon, which looked like a fancy hammer, at Thranduil, "He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then."

I snuck a glance at the elven king. He was indeed smirking, and I found it irritating that he had the nerve to act like that when getting a death threat.

"He's clearly mad, like his cousin," Thranduil announced. I heard a few elves snicker and I rolled my eyes. Woodland elves.

You hear that, lads? We're on!" I heard the last part of Dain's shout, but it was quite rude and I refuse to repeat any such words.

The two kings ordered their armies to get ready and I watched as the elves with shields came to the front and the bowman behind them, while the dwarves… well, they shouted quite a bit in their native language.

Suddenly, all was silenced as a deep rumbling shook the ground. I tried to find where it was coming from and I was almost immediately answered. A great beast shot out of the mountain side, shrieking. It was shaped like a worm with a huge mouth with many openings. They were were-worms; I had never seen one before and now I was glad for it. More and more of the beasts burst out of the ground, debris flying everywhere.

"Oh, come on!" Dain shouted. Bilbo drew a shaky breath and swung his sword over his shoulder, clearly nervous. I patted his shoulder as I drew my sword, it's steel blade glinting in the sun.

Scores and scores of orcs emerged from the were-worms holes. I gripped my sword tighter, my heart thumping. I had never faced a threat so large, not even when I fought dragons.

"Lady Farren," Bilbo said with a whimper.

"I know, I know." I pushed Bilbo behind me, adjusting the grip on my sword. Gandalf hurried back to join Bilbo and I in front of the army of Lake-towners.

Dain shouted for his forces to come forward, "To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!"

"The Elves, will they not fight?" Bilbo questioned. I looked to where Thranduil sat on his steed, whatching the dwarves line up to fight.

"Oh, he will if I have anything to say about it," I grumbled, then marched up to the elven king. Gandalf followed me through the ranks of elves to reach Thranduil. Rieka tried to as well, but she couldn't make it through the bounds of elves.

"Thanduil! This is madness!" Gandalf shouted to him. He stopped just short due to not being able to get through, but I kept pushing forward until I stopped right in front of him. He stared down at me, perhaps waiting for me to yell. But I didn't.

"You have a choice now, Thranduil. Stand and fight, or flee. These dwarves are willing to fight for not only their own, but for the safety of others." I took a step closer and looked him right on the eyes, "Tell me, have you become a coward?"

Thranduil tightened his jaw. "Sparring the lives of my people is not cowardly."

"Running from a battle in which you could save hundreds is. The elves of the woodland realm are strong, do not underestimate them."

Thranduil looked around at his elves, and with a small gesture of his hand, ordered them to fight. A smile broke out on my face and I watched the elves run up behind the dwarves and jump over them to face the hordes of orcs.

With the elves leave, Rieka was able to race across the field and sink her teeth into one orcs neck before joining me. She howled, showing me her now black teeth.

"Arh… remind me to brush your teeth later." I waved off the disgusting stench of orc blood coming from her. She wagged her tail, then bounded off to face more orcs.

Thranduil shouted in elvish for his archers to ready themselves. They took aim and fired, each arrow hitting its mark. But still some broke through the ranks. Twirling the sword in my hand, I couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive. Even I, more experienced than some elves in war, was unsure of our victory with such a large army against us.

The first wave of orcs hit and I found myself filled with adrenaline. The world around me seemed muddled as I ducked under swings, blocked blows to the head, hacked at orc filth, and stabbed through dark hearts. One particular orc thought itself lucky and tried to stab me in the back, but I heard him come, turned, and severed his hideous head from his neck.

The now dead orc fell over, giving me a perfect view of a pale orc atop a natural stone tower with strange contraptions behind him. As another orc came at me, a horn blew and the strange contraption moved in an odd pattern. I pondered on the peculiar contraption and it's purpose as I ducked under an orcs reach and stabbed him through the stomach. My distraction caused me not to hear the other orc approach from behind, but he was quickly taken care of when Thranduil rode by closely and cut off his head.

I nodded my thanks to him, tripped am orc, and bashed the ugly brute on the head with my elbow. The orc went down like a rock and I was able to put my sword through him.

"Thranduil," I called to the king, jumping over the low swing of an orc, "What do you think that odd contraption on top of that stone tower is for?"

"Perhaps a way to command these hideous creatures?" He suggested, bending over backwards on his moose to strike three orcs at once. By some horrible luck, his guess was right. The two sets of wing like things on the contraption spread out and the orc armies turned to the city.

"I believe that you are correct on that theory," I muttered, watching the orcs march to Dale. A sudden realization came to me and I was horrorstruck by it. "Thranduil, they mean to attack the city. The people will be defenseless!"

"Yes indeed. Tell Bard to pull his men back into the city, hold the orcs off as long as possible. I'll bring my forces soon," Thranduil commanded. I didn't like being ordered around, but it was no time to argue.

"Rieka!" I shouted to the white warg that was currently dragging a small orc around in her mouth. "Spit that out and come on." We ran through the field, dodging attakc by orcs and dealing some of our own. Rieka had just pulled ahead of me, when a giant troll armed with a club lumbered into my path. I did not break my pace, instead sliding underneath him on my knees, slashing each of his ankles as I went by. The big oaf stumbled, then fell over forward, right on top of the orcs that had been following me. The many weapons the orcs held impaled the troll, killing it instantly. Smirking with satisfaction, I countinued running.

Bard's forces had yet to ingage in battle, unsure of what they should do. Bard sat on his white horse and looked around at the battlefield, and Rieka and I made our way to him.

"Bard, take your men, go back to Dale," I told him, "The city will soon be overrun."

He nodded, and turned to shout to his men. "All of you, fall back to Dale! Now!"

The men obeyed and hurried back to the city. Bard lead them on his horse, quickly closing the distance between himself and the city. I turned back to the battle and saw war beasts, armed with catapults on their backs, marching to the city after the orcs. Another war beast broke through the wall and orcs stormed into the city.

"Farren," Thranduil grunted as he stabbed an orc, "Time to go." He ran towards me and, without warning, he grabbed the back of my coat and lifted me onto his moose in front of him. Unused to the gesture, I let out a very un-warrior like squek and grabbed onto the animal for dear life.

Thranduil didn't seem to notice and charged into the city, right towards an entire army of awaiting orcs.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

The thundering hooves of Thranduil's moose grew louder as we reached the stone bridge. Hanging on tightly, I squeezed my eyes shut. I now understood why Thranduil was so fond of the animal, it was much faster than any horse I had ridden. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. Finally gathering the nerve to open my eyes, I saw orcs clambering our way from the other side of the bridge. Much to my surprise, and horror, the moose lowered its head and I almost fell off, but it was effective against the orcs.

The moose raised its head again and I saw many orcs impaled on its horns. One orc, unfortunately still alive, tried to use the sword he clutched in his hands to behead me. I ducked under it and shoved my sword into its throat. As I tugged my sword out of the orc, the moose stumbled. I looked back ahead of us and saw orcs shooting arrows at Thranduil's steed.

The great animal stumbled and fell over forward, knocking both Thranduil and I off. Very ungracefully, I jumped from the beast and tumbled on the stone. Behind me, Thranduil rolled and landed in a crouch, his sword out. I hastily got to my feet and Rieka bounded to my side, having followed us from the battlefield. Orcs surrounded us, creating a circle, and a trap.

Without a word to each other, Thranduil, Rieka and I all jumped into action. Rieka jumped onto an orc, knocking it into the one behind. Thranduil took out his two swords and began slashing at any orc that came near. My own efforts were concentrated on an orc with sword that he seemed to know how to use. Sparks flew as we connected blades, brass of sweat dropped down from my forehead, and I felt the wound on my shoulder reopening from the excessive movement of my arm. I snapped kicked the monster in the face, surprising him, then slit his throat.

More orcs came and I fought them all off. Soon, more elves came for their king and jumped into the fight. Sounds of battle surrounded me, clanging swords, twanging bows, whirling arrows. While I was busy trying to not get stabbed through the stomach by an orc, another orc attacked me from the side and knocked my sword from my hand. I rolled away from the orcs and picked up a stray elven bow and an arrow. I shot it a the orc, striking him in the chest, as I ran back to pick up my sword. Now that I had my sword back, I inspected the bow in my hand. It was sturdy and strong, perhaps stronger than most elven weapons. Deciding to keep it, I threw it across my chest and followed the elves to the center of the city.

More orcs had come and our small number would not be able to keep them away. Elves fell, dead, as we ran. So much death, so much loss. There was no hope for us. Only despair. I paused in my run. What was the point of going any further? To run away from death? It all claims us in the end, but… we meet many people in our lives, people we love and care for; don't you think they're worth seeing again? The words of a wise elf whispered in my mind. Words from when I travelled in the north, the words of Thranduil's own wife right before my first battle.

My legs started working again and I ran as fast as I could. Any orc that crossed my path found its death on my blade. Renewed in energy, I found my way through the city. I found a half full quiver as I ran, so I picked it up and swung it over my shoulder as well. A great building rose in front of me, blocking the direct path to my target. I scaled it with a speed and grace I had never had before. Perhaps spending so much time with my kin was wearing off on me. Now on top of the tower, I put away my sword and took out the bow and arrows I had scavenged. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, I shot at the orcs on the ground, killing some, but injuring moats. My aim with a bow wasn't very good, not compared to Legolas and Tauriel's.

The orcs began to fall behind me and I could see the center of the city just a few buildings ahead of me. I quickly made my way over the last rooftops, then flipped off them and into the stone courtyard. Many of the men backed away in surprise and fright. Bard walked forward and smiled when he saw me standing there.

"It's good to see you alive," Bard greeted me. I grinned and performed a playful curtsy.

"It takes a lot more than a few hundred orcs to kill me," I said lightly. Shouts from the men made us both look at what was happening. A pure white warg pushed through the people and sat right next to me. I bent down and scratched Rieka behind the ears. "And her."

"Lady Farren!" Someone shouted and I looked around to find out who. It was Mr. Baggins, looking rough and dirty, but alive and safe.

"Mr. Baggins, how glad I am to see you well!" I cheered, my spirits brightening. I had worried the most for Mr. Baggins because of his size and inexperience, but my worry was wrongly placed. Before another word could be said, a long, low horn blared.

Mr. Baggins turned his attention towards Erebor and mumbled, "Thorin." We shared a look, then raced to the top of the wall with Rieka at my side. A great crash and the sound of a bell followed the horn blow. We reached the top and was met with the sight of Thorin and his company leading the rest of the dwarves in a charge against the orcs.

"The dwarves, they're rallying," Bilbo said with amazement. Gandalf joined us on the wall, overlooking the great battle.

"They're rallying to their King." Gandalf smiled. "Come, let us battle with them!"

Bilbo and I followed Gandalf down the stairs, into battle against the hordes of orcs still alive. I jumped off the side before reaching the bottom and plunged my sword into an orc's back. Rieka jumped above me and ripped her claws into another orcs throat. Mr. Baggins, too small to be noticed by the orcs, stabbed and hacked at their legs, crippling them so he could finish them off. Gandalf, ever the capable wizard, stabbed an orc, then tripped it with his staff.

Bending over backwards, I avoided an orcs swing and kicked it in the face. The blow, to my surprise, was enough to break its neck. More orcs came at me, more than I could possibly take by myself, but Rieka came to my rescue. She jumped into the circle the orcs made around me, then launched forward to sink her teeth in his throat. She jumped from one orc to another, knocking them over and giving me space to defeat the other orcs.

"Lady Farren, Gandalf!" Bilbo shouted from on top of the wall. I had no idea when he had gotten up there, but I didn't waste time running to him, Gandalf and Rieka close behind.

"It's Thorin!" He explained, looking to the mountain. Four big horned sheep with dwarves on their back climbed up the mountainside; towards a tall pale orc.

"And Fili, Kili... and Dwalin. He's taking his best warriors," Gandalf muttered.

"To do what?" Bilbo asked.

"To cut the head off the snake," I said gravelly, maybe a little bit worried. My anger towards Thorin had lessened just a little because of his appearance in the battle, but I was still mad at him for his greed, and myself for helping him and causing so much anguish. I brushed the thoughts out of my mind with a shake of my head, then jumped off the wall to continue battling.

I had just stabbed an orc in the stomach when I heard the beat of hooves on stone. "Gandalf!" A very familiar and comforting voice shouted through the din of battle. Not daring to hope, I looked up and saw Legolas and Tauriel riding on a white horse towards us. My heart lifted as a big smile broke out on my face. It was silly to be glad to see the two elves when there was a lot more to worry about, but I was immensely relieved to see both, perhaps one more than the other, alive.

"Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf!" Gandalf limped over to him, having been injured on the leg by an orc blade, and I followed him eagerly. Legolas jumped off his horse and came to meet him. Despite wanting to, I bypassed Legolas and engulfed Tauriel in a friendly hug. She froze, unsure of what I was doing. I smiled and released her from my hold.

"It's a hug. It is a way of greeting among Men," I told her. She looked surprised, but then she smiled. "I'm glad to see you safe, Tauriel."

"There is a second army. Blog leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us," Legolas said, bringing our attention to him and Gandalf.

"Gundabad? Ahh. This was their plan all along. Azog engages our forces-" Gandalf started.

"Then Bolg sweeps in from the north," I finished for him, my thoughts grave.

"What? Th…the north? Where is the north exactly?" Bilbo stuttered.

"Ravenhill," Gandalf told him glumly.

"Ravenhill? Thorin is up there. And Fili and Kili! They're all up there!" Bilbo shouted as he followed Gandalf to the wall. Shocked, Tauriel looked up at the great hill with Azog, the pale orc, at the top. She was distressed, I could tell, so I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Legolas turned and seemed to have noticed me for the first time. Annoyed, I removed my hand from Tauriel's shoulder and placed it on my hip.

"What took you so long?" I asked with feigned anger. The corners of the elven prince' lip twitched; he was fighting a smile.

"Gundabad is a long way away," Legolas defended himself. My own lips twitched, but I couldn't hold back the smile on my face. Legolas grinned as well and put his hand to his chest in greeting. I didn't return the gesture. I instead tackled him with a hug, and he stepped back in shock. He knew enough to realize what a hug was, so returned it, though hesitantly.

I released him and stepped back. "I am glad to see you both alive." I gestured to the city around us. "Today we are in need of some happiness."

Tauriel looked distracted, looking from Ravenhill and then back to the ground. She wanted to go, to run to Kili and to help him. Legolas noticed it as well and his face turned blank and unreadable. I wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation, I was probably the least experienced in this area, but thankfully Gandalf interrupted the awkward moment.

"Lady Farren, we must convince Thranduil to assist the dwarves," Gandalf said, then walked off with Bilbo in tow. I bid farewell for now to Legolas and Tauriel, them followed after Gandalf with Rieka. I doubted I could do anything to convince Thranduil, but I remembered what Gandalf said, he trusts you the most with his cares. I still didn't understand how I would convince, he had already lost too much, but Gandalf was wise and I trusted him. The thought still did not cease my worry, the worry that Thranduil would do something rash after so many of his people had died.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Gandalf quickly picked his way through fallen bodies. I followed, but I did not match his pace, my mind was on other things. So many dead: women, children, men, elves. More would follow them, and more after that. Death was strange like that, it would never end, as most things did, and life always ended for Men, Dwarves, and even Hobbits, but not for the elves. We will continue on until the sun dies, until all plants have withered, or until another takes our life.

I envy the world of men, whose people can live a full life and die peacefully afterwards. I could not, I will have to live with all my regrets until I die by the hand of an enemy. I would always remember the destruction of my home, the death of my people, the fire of the northern serpents, the pain of losing a friend, and the anguish I brought to the people of Esgaroth. The dwarves escaped, and I helped them; the dragon was awoken, and it was my fault; people lie dead on the ground of Dale, and I was the cause.

A pit of dread developed in my stomach and it swallowed the seldom happiness I currently had. I was dreadful at being an elf.

Before I could berate myself any further, a horn blared through the air. It was elven, and I knew it belonged to Feren; Thranduil was calling back his elves.

The sound broke me out of my daze and I looked up to see that Gandalf had left me, but not Rieka. She was patiently sitting next to me, looking up at me with loyalty.

"You won't leave me, will you girl?" I laughed weakly and bent down on one knee in front of her. "Even when I make mistakes and foolish decisions." She wagged her tail and licked my face, which I will note was kind of gross because she had orc blood all over the inside of her mouth, but I still found it comforting.

I sighed. "I've messed up, Rieka. Not only this time but so many times before. How do I make it right?" I asked her desperately, but I knew she couldn't answer. I wanted to bury my head in her fur and cry and hide away from this messed up world.

I've often said that Rieka and I could read each other like a book, almost as though we could read the other's thoughts. I never so much believed in that statement than when Rieka jumped up and placed her paws on my shoulders, just like a hug. Tears brimmed my eyes as I wondered how on Middle-Earth Rieka was so comprehensive of my emotions, but I realized I didn't care, I was just glad that she could.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I mumbled into my friend's soft, white fur. Suddenly, Rieka began to growl at some unknown threat. She jumped off me and I sat up straight, placing a hand on my blade.

"What is it?" I asked her softly, but an ugly laugh answered for her. I spun around and came face to face with a rather large, green-skinned orc armed with a crudely made sword. I somehow doubted he was an orc though, he was nearly the size of a troll and much bigger than the orc Legolas and I had fought together in Esgaroth.

He wore arm guards and a loincloth, nothing else. Not the best thing to wear to battle, in my own opinion. I would've been surprised that he made it so far into the city if he hadn't been so big.

He pointed the sharp sword at me as he spoke in a low, gravelly voice, "You, She-Elf, shall die by my blade by order of my master."

I unsheathed my own sword in preparation, but the action made me wince. My shoulder wound was fully opened again and I could feel the blood trickling down my arm. That, along with my twisted ankle, would make this a difficult fight.

"And who," I asked, "Would that be?"

The green orc grinned maliciously, showing off his sharp, yellowing teeth. "Sauron."

"Sauron," I breathed in sharply, before quickly regaining my composure. "I am surprised to be singled out among others."

The orc started to walk forward, swinging his sword at his side. I resisted the urge to walk away, for that would show fear and prove that he had already won. But he had not, and I will not let him.

"You are known to my master, Elf. You walk among the free people, giving them hope and protecting them from our swords and our spears and our arrows," he growled, coming closer and closer to where I stood, "They call you the Wanderer, but for no longer. Today, you shall die on my sword just like your people died on my master's."

My heart pounded thunderously in my chest, reminding me that I was still alive despite the numbness in my soul. I was afraid, I've been afraid all day, but knowing that Sauron himself was looking to kill me brought even more fear to my being.

I swallowed, then forced myself to reply, "I'm honored, I truly am, but I wasn't quite looking to die today."

"Oh," he laughed, at least I thought it was, it might have been a cough, "You will, Farren of the North." And with that, he lunged forward to dig his sword in my chest, but even with multiple injuries, I was too fast for him.

Rieka and I leapt out of the way, Rieka to the left and I to the right. I brought my sword up to slit his throat, but he knocked me back with the hilt of his sword. I went flying into the wall behind me and I swore I could hear some of the stones crack, or perhaps that was my ribs.

Somehow managing to hold unto my sword, I shakily got to my feet, then promptly dived to the ground again as the orc threw a rock about Rieka's size right where I had been moments before. As I dove, Rieka jumped up and sank her teeth into the orc's ear. He howled in pain, grabbed the white warg, and threw her to the ground, ripping a bit of his ear off in the process.

"Rieka!" I shouted, then scrambled to my feet. Blood now dripped from the side of the troll-sized orc's head as he turned on me, an angry scowl on my face. Rieka didn't move on the ground, but I didn't think of what that could mean, I didn't _want_ to think of what that could mean.

"Don't you _dare_ touch her," I growled, then charged forward, sword at the ready, and the orc prepared for me, but at the last second I changed direction and swiped my sword at his ankles. The blow made him stumble and nearly fall to the ground but he was able to stay standing.

He swung his own sword in retaliation, but I ducked under the blow and tried to stab him in the stomach, but he sprung backwards before I got the chance. Irritated at his evasiveness, I came forward with a quick series of short blows with my sword, but the filthy orc blocked each one. As I paused for breath and a change of tactic, the orc kicked me back and I staggered back a few steps, thankfully not falling over.

He lunged forward again, but I dodged with an attempted strike at his side. Surprisingly, he didn't stop it and my sword pierced the side of his chest. HE grunted with pain and shock, then pulled my sword, with me still holding onto it, out of his side and threw it away from himself.

I landed with a _crunch_ and I was pretty certain I broke a bone this time. The air was knocked out of me and I struggled to breath. I needed to get back up again, but before I could, the orc limped over to where I lay. MY eyes widened in fear as he lifted his sword above me, preparing for the final blow, but he didn't see that I still clung onto my sword.

With great effort, I raised my own sword and plunged straight into the orc's chest. He stumbled backwards, my sword still stuck in his black heart. His face barely had time to register a look of shock before it went slack, along with every other muscle in his body. He fell over and I definitely heard stone crack under his weight.

I didn't take time to inspect the dead orc's body. Grabbing my sword and yanking it from his chest as I passed by, I ran to Rieka's side.

"Please be alright, please be alright," I mumbled as I checked for a heartbeat. I could feel a steady _thump, thump, thump _from her chest, letting me know she was alright. I checked her breathing also and found that fine as well. She was just knocked out cold.

I couldn't hold in my sigh of relief, knowing that she was okay. I didn't know what I would have done if she actually had… died.

Before Rieka could wake up, I heard footsteps from behind me. Glad I had thought to grab my sword, I spun around, preparing to stab another orc, but found Legolas standing there instead. He cautiously walked up to me, then he seemed to spot Rieka, unmoving, and kneeled down on one knee at my side.

"Is she, dead?" He asked quietly. I shook my head.

"Just unconscious," I told him, "We were attacked by that." I pointed at the large orc I had just defeated and felt a glow of pride at my work.

He looked at the beast of an orc, then at me again. "That?" I nodded. "Now, that is quite a feat. You were not jesting when you said you could handle yourself."

"Hey, I'm a hundred years older than you, of course I can handle myself." I folded my arms defiantly but still grinned.

Legolas smiled in amusement, but then turned serious. "Tauriel has gone to confront my father. I worry she will say the wrong thing and get herself killed."

"That wouldn't help anyone," I sighed, pulling a strand of loose hair behind my pointed ear, "Go ahead and I'll join you when Rieka feels up to it."

"No," he said, surprising me, "I can wait."

"But, Tauriel-" I started, but then Rieka stirred and I directed my attention to her. What I did not see, however, was the appraising, and the somewhat fond, look Legolas gave me.

"Hey, Rieka," I said softly, stroking the fur on her neck, "How are you feeling?" The whimper she gave broke my heart; she was in so much pain but I could do nothing. "Just, just hold on for a bit, and then I'll figure something out."  
As always, Rieka wasn't willing to sit patiently while I needed help. She lifted her head, and then the rest of her, eventually coming to stand. I could see her shake slightly, but I knew she would be okay, despite the pain.

Hesitantly, I stood up, Legolas as well. I wasn't sure what to do; if I left, Rieka would follow, even though she was in no condition to do so, and if I stayed then even more people could get hurt, Tauriel especially.

"If you are sure," I said with a sigh, still concerned for my friend.

Legolas gently grabbed my arm and quietly said, "We should hurry." I nodded and let him lead me to the gates of the city, where Tauriel and Thranduil would most likely be. I kept glancing back at Rieka, worried for her, as she had fallen behind as we walked. She looked so tired, with her head bent to the ground as she walked and her pace slow. I was itching to scoop her up like I did when she was a pup and hide her somewhere safe.

When I glanced back for the tenth time, Legolas grabbed my arm to stop. "You cannot do anything for her now," he told me gently, "When we find Tauriel, we can leave her somewhere in the city, somewhere safe, unless you wish to stay with her."

I fought the urge to look back one more time at my friend. She was exhausted and worn, I could not bring her into battle anymore, not in her condition, but I needed to fix my mistake. I didn't want to leave her, I never wanted to leave her.

"I do not know," I answered him truthfully. Suddenly, a strange sound reached our ears, like that of a breaking bow. We shared a look, then hurried forward to see what had happened. What we found was Thranduil and Tauriel. Thranduil had his sword to Tauriel's chest, a broken bow discarded at her feet.

"What do you know of love? Nothing. What you feel for that Dwarf is not real. You think it is love? Are you ready to die for it?" Thranduil growled at the younger elf. He looked crazed and angry. This was exactly what I feared he would do.

I could see Legolas tense next to me as he took out his own sword. Maybe I should have stopped him, but I didn't do anything as Legolas used his own blade to knocked his father's sword away from Tauriel's chest. She closed her eyes in relief as Thranduil looked at his son in shock.

"_If you harm her you will have to kill me,_" Legolas told his father. Maybe I was a little proud that he was finally standing up to Thranduil, but I wasn't hoping it'd be in this way; I didn't want them to be further apart that what they already were.

I watched as the two stared at each other for a moment, then Legolas lowered his sword and turned to Tauriel. "I will go with you."

Feeling a small nudge at the back of my knee, I turned to see Rieka was head-butting me towards Legolas and Tauriel. She looked up at me expectedly then promptly sat her behind down.

"I thought you had wanted to go with me," I said to her, annoyed. She simply stared. "Fine, I'm going, but you better be alive when I come back or I shall be very cross with you." She blinked, still as a statue.

I stepped out of the shadows of the dark alley Legolas and I had used to reach the gate. "I will come as well," I called softly to Tauriel. She turned for a second, saw me and smiled, then turned to hurry towards Ravenhill. I paused before following.

"I know you love your son, Thranduil, but he does not share my knowledge," I turned to look at him, an elf that was broken and lost and had no clue as to what to do, "Do not wait until it is too late to tell him." With these final words, I ran after Tauriel and Legolas.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**I am so so so sorry for not posting in so long. You probably all hate me and are pretty annoyed, so have this chapter to make up for it.**

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As we ran across the bridge, screeches filled the air. Bats, thousands of bats, flew around Ravenhill, their high-pitched screams piercing the night air. Orc forces from Gundabad had arrived.

"We need to get up there," I shouted over the noise of the bats.

Legolas took my words a little too seriously. As another bat flew low over us, he grabbed onto its legs and clung on as it flew over to Ravenhill.

"Show off," I grumbled, but followed his lead. My hands slipped slightly as I grabbed on, making me realize that they were covered in blood, my own and orcs. But I was able to hang on as the giant bat flew higher and higher. I tried not to look down, but when the bat suddenly jerked downward, I looked at the ground hundreds of feet below and experienced a spell of dizziness. Squeezing my eyes shut, I gripped the giant bat tighter. I was _not_ a fan of heights.

Legolas's bat led us through a space between two towers, and as we flew through it, I spotted more and more orcs flooding the ruins. Bolg and his forces had most definitely come and they were all armed to the teeth. Oh, I dearly hope that Bilbo is alright.

My gaze switched back to Legolas and I saw that he had somehow managed to flip upside down and hang on to the bat by his feet. It both amazed and annoyed me that he could do that while I could barely hold on for dear life.

As we neared a shorter tower, I watched Legolas get out his bow, shoot his bat in the brains, then gracefully land on the top of the tower as the bat went down. I wasn't nearly so gracefully as I landed next to him, then took out my bow and arrow and shoot the bat. Of course, my arrow didn't pierce anything important, just enough pain to stop its flight and cause it to crash to the ground.

I looked down to the frozen waterfall beneath the tower. Suddenly, a figure was thrown on the ice forcefully as orcs ran to surround them. It was Thorin, fighting Azog and a few dozen orcs as well. It seemed that the dwarf king had bitten off too much to chew.

Legolas and I assisted him, shooting arrows from on top of the tower that pierced the filthy orcs. Legolas's, of course, went down with one arrow, but none of my shots were nearly as accurate. I really needed to work on my bowmanship.

With our arrows keeping away the other orcs, Thorin was able to concentrate on the few orcs that managed to survive the onslaught. Soon, I was out of arrows; I knew I should have grabbed more.

The tower unexpectedly began to shake. I steadied myself as I looked for the cause. Some troll with maces for both hands and feet kept hitting the tower, causing its foundations to crumble. Before I could deal with that problem, I heard a sharp cry from the other side of the waterfall.

I jerked up to see Tauriel, weaponless, lying on the foot of some stairs, and the giant orc that Legolas and I had fought in Esgaroth standing over her, weapon drawn and ready to strike. Legolas spotted it too and began to reach for another arrow, only to realize that he was out as well. Unexpectedly, Legolas threw down his bow and took out _Orcist_.

"What are you going to do with that? They're all the wa-" I didn't get to finish my statement as Legolas jumped off the side of the tower, flying down to pierce his sword into the trolls head.

"Legolas! What in Middle Earth are you doing?" I shouted at him, but he didn't answer. Using his blade in the troll's skull as a steering wheel, Legolas forced the troll to crash headfirst into the already unstable tower.

"Wait, no, don't do tha-" My words ended with a scream, because, for the second time that week, the tower came falling down with me still in it. I scrambled to climb on the side of the tower so as not to be crushed between rock and stone.

Thankfully, I was able to hold on to the stone as the tower came to a halt between the two sides of the cliff. My hearting faster than ever from the brush with death, I ran to the other side of the tower, away from Bolg, but I somehow managed to get my foot stuck between two uneven stones. Ugh, why did I have to be so clumsy?  
"Legolas Greenleaf," I shouted as I struggled to free my foot, "I'm going to kill you!" Oh, that elf is going to be the death of me.

The make-shift bridge shuddered again as Bolg landed heavily on it. It was enough to free my foot, so I scrambled to a safer place away from Bolg. Not that I was too scared to face him, I just needed time to take out _Gwathrenang._

With my blade now equipped, I jumped into battle behind Legolas, just as Bolg took a swing at him. I ducked under the mace and Legolas twirled out of the way like a prima ballerina. Angered, Bolg tried again to bring his heavy weapon down on our heads, but we both stepped out of the way just in time. Legolas attempted to cut off the orcs sword arm, but his blade just bounced off the steel armor. Bolg then attempted to stab me, but I blocked his weapon. With a tremendous grunt, Bolg lifted the heavy weapon and brought it down on where Legolas had just been moments before. The blow was enough to make the stone crumble, and both Legolas and I fell into the interior of the tower. I just barely managed to not fall into the hole and fall to my death.

Bolg came thundering down after us. With a swift flick of my wrist, I was able to cut Bolg across the chest. He roared in outrage, grabbed me by the neck, and then threw me against the rubble. My head hit a rock and my vision swam before me. I just shook it off and got up again as Bolg slammed Legolas into the wall, crumbling that stone as well.

Legolas danced away, the impact of the first blow making the tower collapse underneath his steps. I quickly got up and hurried after Legolas and the orc, not wishing to fall to my death. We made it to the top of the tower again and I watched Bolg try to strike the elven prince from behind, but the elf somehow blocked it. I took that as my cue to attack from the back. My hilt hit the side of the ugly brutes head and he paused for a moment, trying to get over the blow.

Legolas lashed out at Bolg again and the orc managed to block it with his arm armor. The battle went back and forth from there. Bolg would try to hit Legolas, but he would jump back as I tried to stab the orc, he then turned his attention back to me as Legolas attacked him. After a while, you'd think the orc would be smarter and find a different way of attacking us, but it just continued.

At last, Bolg broke the pattern by aiming an especially forceful blow at Legolas. The elf stumbled to the ground as the orc used my shock to his advantage. He grabbed me by the throat again and held me in the air with a wicked grin on his face. What was with this orc and strangling people? I tried to kick out at him to release me, but he only turned to Legolas so the elven prince could see me choke to death.

Just as the last of the air escaped my lungs, an orc from above came falling down and crashed into the side of the tower. The stones fell apart and Bolg stumbled backward, releasing me from his grasp. I fell to the ground, sucking in cold air in gasps. Legolas helped me to my feet, but I stumbled with dizziness. I now felt the pain from my twisted ankle, my injured shoulder, and the near oxygen loss all at once, and it as not a good feeling. I leaned on him slightly as we looked to see Thorin without any weapon, lying on the edge of the frozen waterfall with a menacing orc above him.

Legolas stared up at them, looked at his sword, then back at the orc. A determined look on his face, Legolas threw _Orcist _with his right hand and with his left held me steady. The sword pierced the orc right in the chest, immediately killing it. How the elf always managed to hit his target, I'll never know.

Just to our luck, Bolg had to emerge from the pile of rubble and attack us. Legolas pushed me out of the way as he spun on his knees, took out his twin daggers, and cut twice across Bolg's chest. With the orc distracted, I was able to scoop up my sword again, right before the filthy creature struck me across the head and I collapsed, my vision swimming again. Bolg turned around and struck at Legolas again, but he blocked it, ducked behind the orc and stabbed him in the back. It wasn't enough to kill him though, only enough for him to cry out in pain, turn around and punch the elf in the jaw. Legolas bent over backward beneath the blow, but the rocks fell apart beneath him and he fell into a pile of rubble.

"Legolas!" I called and struggled to get up. Bolg turned his back to me and picked up a large stone that was more like a boulder. Before he could throw it, however, I jumped onto the orcs back. The boulder that had been so carefully aimed at the elven prince's end missed him and instead crashed into the bridge behind. The stone began to collapse, unable to take any more weight.

I watched in horror as Legolas struggled to make it off the now-collapsing bridge. He jumped from falling stone to falling stone, miraculously making it back to solid ground.

Bolg threw me off his back and I fell to the ground with a groan. As I shook my head to fight off the dizziness, Legolas reached the last step, jumped up, and kicked the orc in the face. Bolg immediately threw him off and they both ended up grasping for a hold on the side of the tower.

Legolas swung back onto the tower in one swift move as I finally got up again. Bolg was up again as well; he roared in outrage, then sprung forward to grab the elf, but Legolas took out one of his blades and attempted to stab the orc. Bolg grabbed the blade and held it against his chest; I couldn't see his face, but I imagined it must have looked smug before I came up behind him and stabbed my blade all the way through his stomach.

For good measure, Legolas used his blade to leap on top of the orcs head. He removed the blade from Bolg's side, then stabbed him right in the brain, just as the rest of the bridge collapsed.

I pulled out my blade from the orc's back and ran to steady ground, Legolas right behind me as he flipped off Bolg's shoulders. We watched as they bridge completely and finally fell apart, bringing the now-dead Bolg down with it.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put away my blade and leaned against the cold stone of the mountain top. I was utterly exhausted, but our work was not finished yet.

"_Are you okay?" _Legolas asked, a genuinely concerned note to his voice.

"_Yes," _I said between breaths, "_Just winded. But, where is Tauriel?"_ I finally realized the absence of the she-elf we had been looking for. Legolas climbed the stairs on the side of the mountain, looking for our friend.

"Tauriel!" He shouted, but there was no answer. She was nowhere in sight.

"Tauriel!" I called as well, now concerned. She was just here merely moments before, where could she have gone?

Before we could search for much longer, the cries of eagles filled the air. I looked up and saw dozens of giant, beautiful eagles soaring in the air. In all my years in Middle Earth, I had never seen such beautiful creatures. The large wings were covered in gold, gray, silver, and even white feathers that bristled in the breeze. I've heard the tales of the giant eagles, but I had never seen them in person and I felt greatly honored to behold such magnificence.

The eagle in the lead let out a loud cry again as it dove towards the approaching army of orcs. My pains forgotten, I climbed the rocks to get a better view of the beautiful animals. Each eagle soared close to the ground and dragged their talons through the hordes of orcs, scattering and killing the enemy. Just when I thought it couldn't possibly get better, I saw a large man jump from an eagle's back, then change shape in mid-air to become a bear! The man was skin-changer! I couldn't believe; I thought their kind went extinct ages ago.

I cheered in appreciation as I saw the man-turned-bear rip through the orc ranks, tearing them apart. The eagles picked the bats from the air, tearing the talons into the bat's flesh, then leaving them to fall to their death.

"Legolas!" I called back to him, but I turned only to see him gone. "Legolas?" Honestly, what was with elves and disappearing?

As I turned my attention back to the eagles, I caught sight of the battle happening on the ice of the waterfall. I was just in time to see Azog slide his blade into Thorin's stomach.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**What is this, two chapters in one night! *Gasp* Well, this one isn't really all that long...**

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"Thorin, no!" I scrambled down from my perch on top of the rock; I may not particularly liked his recent actions, but he did not deserve to die.

As I leapt the last few feet to the ground, I saw Thorin take his own blade and stab the orc in the chest. When I arrived, I pushed Azog off of Thorin before he could be crushed under the weight.

Thorin shakily got up, and I briefly hoped he would be okay, before I spotted the wound in the center of his stomach.

"Oh, Thorin," I whispered, but he ignored and instead marched to the edge of the waterfall to watch the eagles soar over the land, their work down. I didn't say anything as I came to stand next to him. A breeze blew through from the beats of an eagles wings as it sailed past us, following it's kin.

"It is a beautiful land," Thorin suddenly spoke up, his breathes heavy and his words quietly whispered, "It is a shame I will never be king over it."

Before I could say anything, he collapsed in a heap. Shocked, I kneeled next to him and held his hand as he stared into the wide sky above us.

"You would have made a great king," I whispered to his dying form.

"I do not think so," Thorin gasped, his eyes starting to go vacant. The soft tap of bare feet on ice came towards us and I saw Bilbo running towards us.

"You will die for your people, Thorin. There is no greater gift you can give them." I stood up as Bilbo kneeled at Thorin's side, clear panic written across his face.

"Bilbo," Thorin gasped out.

"No, don't look. Don't move. Lie still." Bilbo noticed the wound in Thorin's stomach and his face turned grave. "Oh."

"I'm glad you're here…"

"Shh, shh, shh," Bilbo pleaded with him.

"I wish to part with you in friendship," Thorin continued.

"No, you are not going anywhere, Thorin, you're going to live." Bilbo turned to me, his eyes pleading. "Isn't there something you can do? Anything?"

I shook my head solemnly. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Baggins."

"But, but you're an elf! You have magic, you can heal!" He shouted. I gave him a pitying look and kneeled next to him.

"Even Lord Elrond would not be able to save him from this death. I truly am sorry, Mr. Baggins, but he will die." I placed my hand on his shoulder in comfort. The feeling of losing someone you cared about was all too familiar to me, and I did not wish the pain upon Bilbo, but I could not stop Thorin's death.

"I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate," Thorin gasped out with great effort. "You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see. I am so sorry that I have led you into such peril."

"No, I'm-I'm glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin." Bilbo grasped onto Thorin's hand. "Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves."

"Farewell, Master Burglar," the dwarf said with a smile, "Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place."

With that, Thorin takes his final breath, his eyes still on his friend.

I look away as Bilbo pleads with him, "No! No, no, no, no! No! Thorin! Thorin, don't you dare…"

At the last moment, Thorin turns his eyes towards the heavens, finally joining his father, and his grandfather, and all the line of Durin before him.

"Thorin? Look, Thorin. Thorin, hold on. You hold on. You see, the Eagles… the Eagles, the Eagles are here. Thorin…the Eag…"

Bilbo turned away from his friend, tears freely flowing from his eyes. I wrap my arms around the small and ever so brave hobbit and allowed him to sob into my shoulder.

"_Hiro îth… ab 'wanath…_" I whispered into the cold night air. My words were lost in the wind on the mountain top, but I knew they were heard by the Valar. I trusted them to bring Thorin to his final resting place, where he could find peace in death.

"May-may I have a moment?" Bilbo asked between shuddering sobs.

"Of course." I released the hobbit and left to find my kin, but not before I snuck one last look at Bilbo. He rocked back and forth, his knees clutched to his chest as he tried to cope with his loss.

Sighing I turned away from the scene, retreating into the mountain to find Tauriel or Legolas. It did not take long to find the two, and when I did, I was faced with an even more heart-breaking sight.

It was Kilil, lying dead on the stones, blood still trickling from his forehead. Tauriel stood over him, tears running from her eyes, as she mourned the loss of her lover. Legolas stood nearby, looking at the scene with a placid, if not broken, expression.

I took a spot next to him and gently touched his arm to alert him to my presence. He turned to look at me, then back at Tauriel. She placed a small stone, the same one Kili had shown her days before, into his hand and held the hand to her lips, kissing it, before clutching it tightly to her heart. Her sobs shook her body as she gripped the cold hand.

To my surprise, I found a small tear flow down my cheek and land on my hand. I stared at the tear for the longest time, before wiping it away on my tunic. I've spilt enough tears today.

Legolas turned away and retreated back into the mountains. I followed to give Tauriel some space, my heart heavy. She found love in that dwarf, and I was happy for her, but his death would greatly affect the elf I knew. I snuck a glance at Legolas, for I knew he loved Tauriel, but his feelings were not returned. Among the elves, you will only find one love in your lifetime, and Legolas just lost his.

_And, in turn, me… _The thought surprised me. Have I grown to love the elven prince? Little did I know, that the ever so bothersome question would not be answered for a very long time.

"I… cannot go back." Legolas words brought me back to where I was, and I was surprised to Thranduil standing before us. Legolas stepped passed him as Thranduil spoke to his on.

"Where will you go?" He asked. I averted my gaze to the ground and stayed where I was, knowing this conversation was not for my ears.

"I do not know," Legolas admitted.

"Go north. Find the Dúnedain. There is a young ranger amongst them, you should meet him. His father Arathorn was a good man. His son might grow to be a great one." Thranduil looked directly at his son with his last words.

"What is his name?" Legolas asked.

"He's known in the wild as strider. His true name you must discover for yourself."

Legolas turned to leave again and I followed once more.

"Legolas," Thranduil called before his son left him for possibly forever. We stopped to hear what he had to say. "Your mother loved you. More than anyone. More than life."

Legolas, his expression broken, turned to give his father one lossy traditional elf parting, then left the cavern. I did not come after him right away, instead I rounded on Thranduil.

"Will you make sure he is safe?" He asked me. Surprised, I stumbled for words at first.

"To the best of my ability, until we part." I wasn't exactly sure how long that would be, but I intended to keep my promise.

"That is all I ask." I nodded politely to him, but he called to me before I left. "Thank you, my lady. For everything."

"It has been my honor, my king." And for the first time ever, I bowed to Thranduil before making my exit.

Crisp air met me as I came out of the mountain. Legolas was standing on the edge of the cliff, looking down on the city of Dale below.

"_You fought well today,_" Legolas told me.

I snorted. "_What do you mean today? I always fight well._" I feigned being offended, but I couldn't hide my grin.

He smiled, but it was a sad one and it didn't quite reach his eyes. "_Will you come with me?_" When I didn't answer immediately, he carried on. "_We could journey north with Rieka, meet this Strider, and even visit Fae Thalas."_

I wasn't prepared for such a question, one never could be, but I somehow already knew my answer. "_I am tired of war and of fighting, Legolas. I have journeyed from place to place for thousands of years. I need rest."_

Legolas frowned, looking a little hurt, but I would stand by my answer. "_I understand, mellon."_ It was silent between us, with only the sound of the howling wind, before Legolas spoke again, "_Will you stay here, in Dale?"_

I thought back to the offer from Sigrid and Tilda, to stay with them. It had been tempting before, but now, I think that might be the best decision for both me and Rieka. I would have to talk about it with her later.

"_Most likely_," I told him.

"_Then we will not be seeing each other for a long time," _Legolas said solemnly.

"_I suppose not._" The words were bitter in my mouth. In all likelihood, we would never see each other again and I don't know if I could bear to be parted from one of my oldest friends for that long.

"_Well, my lady, until we meet again, maui cín travel n- legin a cín lond an." _He gave me his usual smile, the one I had grown to know, and possibly love.

"_Until we meet again, mellon, maui cín travel n- legin a cín lond an," _I repeated. We shared one last sad smile, and then he left.


	20. Chapter Twenty

The following morning was a solemn one. The people left alive were in mourning for the dead. A great horn was blown from the highest tower facing Erebor, in honor of all those who had fallen.

Rieka and I, now reunited and in better health, stood next to Bard and his family. Bard held his girls tightly while I had an arm around Bain, who looked close to tears. I wonder if he had lost any friends last night, or people he knew. Rieka sat patiently at my feet, a bandage wrapped around her broken front leg.

My eyes traveled to those around me; these people I had met just days before, I would now die to protect. Funny how love worked, whether it be towards a brother or a daughter or a friend, you wouldn't be parted from them, even in death.

I had greatly weighed my decision on staying in Dale, but I have found that it is perhaps the best decision for now. I've never had a home before, not since Fae Thalas, and standing here, with the people I loved and cared about, I realized that this was home. It was a feeling, not a place or a destination. And where I felt this feeling would change over time, and I was perfectly content with that. Dale may not be my home forever, but it was for now.

To my surprise, I heard a small sniff from Bain. I looked down to see the young man crying, but he turned away when he saw me looking.

I only held him tighter and whispered into his ear, "It's alright to cry, Bain. It does not show weakness, not when you have already shown so much strength."

The boy gulped loudly and nodded, before leaning his head on my shoulder. Poor boy, he was probably exhausted; there had been no time for sleep, not when there had been dead to bury and people to see off. Many of the people from Lake-town had left this morning, going off to start farms in the countryside.

Speaking of farewells, there was one hobbit I needed to see before he left.

"I'll be back," I whispered to Bain as I let go of him. Seeing me leaving, Rieka got up and followed. We walked silently through the crowded streets slowly, both for mine and Rieka's benefit.

At the gates of Erebor, I saw Balin and Bilbo standing just outside with Gandalf and his horse waiting nearby. I smiled in greeting to Balin who was speaking to Bilbo as I came to stand next to Gandalf.

"Well, I think I'll slip quietly away, will you tell the others I said goodbye?" Bilbo was saying.

"You can tell them yourself." Surprised, Bilbo looked up to see me and Rieka, grinning at him, and then he turned to find the nine other dwarves standing anxiously in the gateway. Bilbo chuckled in appreciation.

"If any of you are ever passing Bag-End, uh…tea is at four. There's plenty of it, you are welcome any time. That includes you and Rieka, Lady Farren." The dwarves and I bowed are head in acknowledge at his words. "Uh…don't bother knocking."

I didn't know what that meant, but it seemed to be a joke among them for the dwarves softly laughed. Even Gandalf chuckled. Bilbo smiled at his own jest, then turned to go, but before he jumped on his horse, I stopped him.

"Gandalf said you might be needing this." I handed Bilbo a blue handkerchief, one I found abandoned in Dale that morning.

"A handkerchief?" Bilbo asked in disbelief, then he laughed, a good hearty one. When the dwarves saw what had happened, they chuckled along with him.

Bilbo took the handkerchief gladly and left Erebor on a merrier note. The dwarves, Rieka, and I watched him and Gandalf ride away, towards their own homes.

"Do you think we'll ever be seeing him again?" The youngest dwarf, who I finally found to be named Ori, asked.

"I do hope so, he's a rather entertaining fellow," I said shortly. "Well, are we having a feast or not?" I turned to the dwarves, hands on my hips. "You'll need to clean the kitchen and prepare the food and invite all the guests. It wouldn't be much of a party without any of that."

The dwarves jumped up, merry once more, and ran into their mountain home to prepare. Rieka and I followed them to help; we wouldn't be very good guests if we didn't. Shouts rang out from the dwarves as they ran around the place.

"We'll need pots and pans, Bofur," Balin called out.

"On it," the dwarf responded.

"Don't forget to find some food to cook," Dwalin reminded.

"Bard said he'll be bringing that," I chipped in.

"What about utensils?" Óin asked.

"I think I saw some in that drawer, should be enough," his brother responded.

"We'll need music!" Nori shouted.

"I'll play and Lady Farren can sing!" Dori exclaimed.

"I will do no such thing. I am horrible at singing and I'd rather not clean up any more blood, even if it did come from your ears," I responded with indignation.

"Sing a bit now, lass, it can't be that bad," Dwalin asked.

"Aw, come on Lady Farren," Ori begged. Bifur shouted something khuzdul, which I roughly translated as "_Sing!" _or something along those lines.

"Oh, all right, but it's your own fault," I grumbled, then cleared my throat to sing the only dwarvish song I knew.

_The king he was on carven throne_

_In many-pillared halls of stone_

_With golden roof and silver floor_

_And runes of power upon the door._

_The light of sun and star and moon_

_In shining lamps of crystal hewn_

_Undimmed by cloud or shade of night_

_They shone for ever fair and wide._

_The world is grey, the mountains old_

_The forge's fire is ashen-cold_

_No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:_

_The darkness dwells in Durin's halls_

_The shadow lies upon his tomb_

_In Moria, in Khazad-dûm._

_But still, the sunken stars appear_

_In dark and windless Mirrormere_

_There lies his crown in water deep_

_Till Durin wakes again from sleep._

When I finished, I actually saw the dwarves wipe tears from their eyes. I wasn't sure if it was because I swung it well or it reminded them of Kili, Fili, and Thorin. I decided to go with the latter.

"That's beautiful, lass," Balin said, "But you could you sing something a bit more upbeat? This is a party."

I gave him an annoyed look, but complied, choosing a hobbit song from my time in the Shire many, many years ago.

_There is an inn, a merry old inn_

_Beneath an old grey hill_

_And there they brew a beer so brown_

_That the Man in the Moon himself came down_

_One night to drink his fill_

_The ostler has a tipsy cat_

_That plays a five-stringed fiddle_

_And up and down he saws his bow_

_Now squeaky high, now purring low_

_Now sawing in the middle_

_So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle_

_A jig that would wake the dead:_

_He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune_

_While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon_

_"It's after three!" he said_

_Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle_

_The dog began to roar_

_The cow and the horses stood on their heads_

_The guests all bounded from their beds_

_And danced upon the floor_

_The round Moon rolled behind the hill_

_As the Sun raised up her head_

_She hardly believed her fiery eyes_

_For though it was day, to her surprise_

_They all went back to bed._

This song was much for compliant to the dwarves need of merriment. They danced as I sang and Dori even took out his flute to play along with me. Despite my annoyance, I clapped along with them and even danced when Dwalin offered. Even Rieka was jumping around and howling, as though she was singing.

And that was how Bard and his family found us singing and dancing in a crumbling kitchen at the heart of Erebor.

* * *

Rieka and I never did make it to tea with Bilbo Baggins but fear not, we got the chance to many years later, when Middle Earth's safety was threatened once more.

* * *

** The songs found in this chapter are not owned by me. You can find them under the names of _Song of During_ by Peter Hollens and _Hobbit Drinking Medley_ by Peter Hollens.**

**How's that for an ending? Thank you so much for reading this far and I really hope you enjoyed it. If so, leave a review and a favorite, please! I've already worked on the sequel and I have a few chapters written, I just need to type them up and post them, so look out for _One Last Time_ to continue Lady Farren and Rieka's adventures in Middle Earth.**


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